


The Nameless One

by Scribe32oz



Series: Hunters & Slayers [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8162285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: When Faith goes missing on a mission, Buffy enlists the aid of the Winchesters to go in search of her.  As they are led to a remote town in Northern Maine, they discover that it wasn't only angels that was unleashed when Metatron locked the angels out of heaven.Season 9 AU.





	1. Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> This follows after my earlier BTVS/SPN crossover - Bleeding Walls. It set at the beginning of Season 9 of Supernatural and disregards everything after BTVS season 7 finale. Please note this is a horror story and is a homage to one of the stories written by comic book writer Keith Giffen.

KEWAUNEE, WISCONSIN  
MAY 15th

 

Buffy could hear it moving.

The demon’s footsteps crunched against the sand as it moved through the wooden pylons beneath the boardwalk. She tipped her head forward, just past the beam behind which she was hiding, honing in on where it was. In the background, the ocean rushed to shore and then retreated just as quickly, stranding froth and flotsam in its departure. Above her head, the tourists taking a leisurely stroll down the boardwalk had little idea of what was transpiring beneath their feet, oblivious to the battle taking place beneath them.rr

Buffy scanned for Faith but saw nothing at first but the wooden beams making up the supporting pylons of the boardwalk. Sunlight streamed through the cracks, illuminating dust particles and obscuring the terrain a little. Finally, she saw Faith signalling to her from behind a beam to the far right. Faith was pointing left. Buffy nodded and craned her neck in the direction Faith indicated. The demon was there. She jerked back behind the beam, fearfing it might have seen her.

The demon did not react. Instead, it continued searching for the two slayers who were in turn, hunting it.

As always, Faith attacked first.

Stalking it, she hoped the soles of her biker boots didn’t make too much noise as she closed in. Finally, she was able to get a close up look of the thing. It was clad in armour and wearing a helmet of oriental design. A single red gem gleamed from its green, reptilian forehead above misshaped features. It was carrying a katana with an ornate design on the blade, the same weapon reportedly used to assassinate a number of targets in recent months. Its latest victim was a shaman from the Order of the Kun-Sun-Dai who apparently slept with someone’s wife.

Apparently in the demon world, adultery was taken rather seriously.

The demon was still scouring the shoreline when it became aware of Faith’s approach. It bellowed an outraged cry in a language she did not understand nor cared to identify when it rushed at her, blade swinging. Faith sidestepped the initial blow but the demon was exceedingly fast. No sooner than she moved out of its way, it was hacking at her again. She raised her own weapon to deflect the strikes but even with slayer strength, the demon managed to drive her backwards.

“Hey ugly!” Buffy called out as she came up behind it, trying to draw its attention away from Faith in order to let the slayer regain her footing.

Using the distraction Buffy provided, Faith found an opening it is defences and was able to plunge her blade into the small of its back. The demon threw its head back and screamed, reacting immediately by swivelling around and swatting Faith aside like she was a rag doll. Faith felt air whoosh by her before her skull whacked against the wooden ceiling above. Her vision became a rush of stars as she hit the ground and felt something warm beneath her hair, like blood. It was too hard to tell when the world spinning around her.

Buffy’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Faith landing hard against the ground. However, there was no time to help her because the demon had barely slowed, despite having a blade sticking out of its torso. Instead, it slid the weapon out of its flesh countered Buffy’s offensive, blow for blow. It attacked viciously, swinging its katana in wide sweeping arcs, any one of which could cut her in half if she couldn’t deflect them. Buffy stayed out of its reach, ducking and weaving while using her own weapon to return similarly precise swipes.

It took Faith a few seconds before she was shaking her head to clear it. Looking up, she assessed the situation and knew immediately Buffy needed help. These particular demons were exceedingly skilled and strong and though none had ever taken a slayer, it wasn't because they were lacking in strength or ability. It simply never had the opportunity. Faith didn’t intend for today to become the first. Getting to her feet she retrieved her short sword, discarded by the demon, lying impatiently against the sand awaiting her to reclaim it.

This time, the appearance of a second assailant did not go unnoticed and it reacted to her approach by turning its attention away from Buffy. Even though it was a brief glance, Buffy saw the opening and took it. Dropping to the ground, she swung out her leg in a powerful arc and swept the creature's legs from under it. The demon felt down hard on its back, lying against the sand, momentarily dazed. Buffy knew they had less than a second to act.

"Faith! The ruby!"

Faith closed in on the demon and plunged the tip of the blade through the gem embedded in its forehead. Folded steel cracked the jewel's faceted surface and then broke through, the shaft of the sword sliding into the gem and out. It reached bone and flesh with just as much speed. The demon had no chance to cry out. The killing blow took place so suddenly it never saw the death coming until it was too late. Its body spasmed violently, with legs twitching until the last embers of life vanished forever.

Both slayers dropped to the sand on either side of the dead creature, panting hard. Even together, this had been a difficult hunt. The climax was the kill but they’d been days tracking it across Wisconsin for almost a day now.

"Damn B," Faith exclaimed wiping away the blood from her forehead, "You sure know how to throw the best parties."

"Oh yeah that’s me,” Buffy said sarcastically as she let out a weary breath, “Buffy the Party Slayer."

Resting her eyes on demon, Buffy remembered the reason they were here. The realisation made her tense. "Come on, let’s get this done. We don't have much time."

**********

Getting what they needed from the demon’s corpse, Buffy and Faith rushed straight to Ranch Side Airport where Giles had chartered a private plane to take them to Randolph, New York. The trip cross-country would otherwise take them ten hours if they tried to drive it. The plane would get them there in an hour and half. To Buffy, it still didn't feel soon enough and it felt like she’d wasted so much time hunting down the demon to get to this point.

As Faith sat across Buffy on the plane, staring out the window, her silence was unsettling. Buffy was used to her talking, pretending nothing fazed her when in fact, much was going on behind her dark eyes. On this occasion, her eyes mirrored her disposition and Buffy felt a wave of empathy for her sister slayer that was often elusive given their past relationship.

"Faith, we'll get there in time," Buffy assured her even though she wasn't certain herself. However, Faith so rarely let anything get to her it was easy to believe she didn't care.

Except Buffy knew better.

Faith had come into this world with a chip on her shoulder and life as a slayer hadn’t improved the situation much. She'd been chosen without really being chosen. She should have been the only Slayer after Kendra passed but Buffy’s survival took that away from her. Faith once said two of them were never meant to exist in the same space. It caused entropy. Worse yet, no matter how much Faith tried, the inevitable comparison to Buffy would surface and this eventually led to a disastrous alliance with the Mayor. More wrong choices followed until finally she wound up in jail.

It pained Buffy to no end she never had a chance to tell Angel he was right about Faith before his death in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, Faith had always been a tender subject between them. His belief in Faith’s redemption was what had really brought Faith back to them. While they would never be the best friends, Buffy would always grateful for the relationship they were able to build, thanks to Angel.

"Hey people die all the time. That’s life isn't it?" Faith shrugged but Buffy could tell she wasn’t as indifferent to it as she might like everyone to believe.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded in agreement although she wasn’t in the mood to argue about it when Faith was in denial mode.

The truth was, it may be the life but neither of them would ever get used to it.

*********

Somehow, Buffy and Dean made it work.

When Dean Winchester had kissed her and climbed into the Impala with Sam a few months ago, Buffy was convinced he was driving out of her life for good. Despite their promises to each other, the demands of the life he led was something Buffy was intimately familiar with. She knew he meant every word he said, that he would come back to her. Still, reality had a way of making people compromise every promise until it became meaningless. After that, the best outcome was to end it before whatever remaining affection they shared became bitterness.

But then a few days after he’d left, Dean called.  
He was somewhere in Podunk, America on a job. Sam was researching and he was bored. They'd talked for most of the night, exchanging stories, telling each other how their week had gone and confiding all those silly thing couples talked to each other about. It was sweet and also surprising.

A few days later, Buffy received another call and once again, they talked for hours. Then after a fortnight, he rang to say he was heading back to Lebanon. Sam needed the break and Dean wanted to know if he could drop by for the weekend. Buffy said yes and cancelled whatever plans she had made.

They'd had a sinful weekend of marathon sex, Chinese food and bad movies.

After the weekend was done and Monday morning arrived, he kissed her goodbye again and drove off. And that was how it continued with them. Telephone calls, text messages and stolen days that made the waiting so worth the while. It wasn't the ideal relationship but Buffy had full-time relationships that never felt as good as this. She could live on this forever and apparently so could he.

When Dean called her from the hospital two days ago, the despair in his voice was so palpable it made her heart break just hearing it. She'd been aware of how increasingly worried he was about Sam's deteriorating condition over the last few months but he’d never sounded as disconsolate as he had now. Buffy knew the heavenly trials to banish the biblical demons back to hell was taking its toll on Sam but until that phone call, Buffy realised Dean hadn’t really believed it could kill his brother.

In truth, Buffy wasn’t surprised to hear the news of Sam’s deteriorating condition. When she and Faith had talked, the other slayer voiced her own concerns. Sam and Faith had also kept in touch after their first meeting in Lawrence. Faith had even put a term to this thing that she and Sam had although Buffy didn’t find it nearly as amusing as Faith did.

They were _Redemption_ _buddies_.

While Buffy believed that Faith’s friendship with Sam was just that, a friendship, Buffy also knew Faith cared about the younger Winchester more than she’d admit to. Her questions to Buffy had been to inquire if she knew whether or not Sam was really as well as he made himself out to be. After all, sensitive new age guy he might be at times but as far as Faith was concerned, he was still a guy who had this dumb ass notion about keeping the 'wiminfolk' in the dark about his state.

Buffy assured Faith that she didn't know any more than what Dean told her. Yet she suspected the possibility Sam might not get better was something Dean couldn't face himself.

Her fears were confirmed when Dean called after the strange meteor shower that had rained across the planet two days ago. She'd been watching it on the news when the phone rang and learned Sam was sick and was falling into a coma. Dean was always so self-assured. Even when they were tapped in the Razor Realm, he’d been the one to keep up their spirits, refusing to let her give up. Hearing him so anguished had shaken Buffy and she remembered what it felt like when she thought she'd lost Dawn to Glory. She'd shut down and while Dean was handling it better than she had at the time, Buffy knew it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge.

No sooner than she’d hung up the phone from Dean, she’d called Giles and demanded that the full attention of the Watcher Council to find something to help Sam. After all those centuries of gathering supernatural knowledge of demons, monsters, spells and the occult, there had to be something which could be of some help to Sam Winchester. She couldn't bear the thought of Dean losing his brother. Worse yet, from what he'd told her of his family's history, Winchesters had the tendency to make bad deals when their backs were up against a wall.

To save his brother, there was no telling what Dean Winchester was prepared to do.

Giles called yesterday morning with an answer.

There was a demon species called mohra. They were assassins by trade and virtually immortal due to the regenerative properties of their blood. Even when severely injured, the mohra could regenerate and only a blow to the red gem implanted in all their foreheads could kill them permanently. However, what was of greater value to her was the fact that their blood, whether extracted from a living or dead specimen, retained its regenerative properties. If administered to a human, it could restore them to perfect health.

At this point, Buffy had been willing to take the gamble that it could save Sam's life.

******

There weren't many times in his life that he had felt as helpless as this moment found him.

At least when Sam died almost seven years ago, there was a deal to make. Dean Winchester willingly sacrificed his life to a crossroads demon in order to ensure his brother's survival. True, he’d been unaware of just how bad a deal it was but the truth be told, Dean would make it again in a moment if he could save Sam. Even now, he would consider making a deal if not for the fact that the King of Hell was presently locked in the trunk of his car and hardly in the position to do any horse-trading.

There was Abbadon but he doubted the former knight of hell was in a generous mood. After he’d dismembered her sorry ass and kept her boxed up for months, the demon was most likely to rip his head off if he even put the question to her rather than barter. He’d even tried calling for Castiel even though they had parted company badly, but again but there was no answer. Cas was in the wind and with angels falling from the sky, Dean was starting to suspect something terrible might have happened to the angel.

Dean was out of options and the inevitable he faced now was more than he could stand. The memory of Sam's readiness to die still cut through him. Sam had been prepared to close the deal on the final trial, believing his life was an appropriate payment for all those times he’d let Dean down. How the fuck had he become so sanctimonious that he’d missed what his reproach was doing to Sam?

The guilt gnawed at Dean and if Sam died, this would be his punishment; to go through the rest of his life knowing Sam had died because of him.

Dean lifted his head from the polished wooden pew he had been leaning against to look at the crucifix behind the altar of the chapel. He stared at it, unable to see the hope others in the place still believed in. Dean's knowledge of angels and heaven was too intimate for him to ever believe in its power again. God had left the building, he told himself and even if he was around, Dean had nothing to say to him.

God was a dick.

Still, desperation made all men weak.

He swallowed thickly and prepared to make a prayer that would count, to the only ones left who could help him, whatever the coast.

“Screw it…” he started to say when suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and his jaw drop.

“Buffy?”  
"Hey baby," Buffy looked down at him, smiling affectionately. She saw the redness of his eyes and knew he’d probably wept at some point, the realisation making her heart ache for him. “I came as soon as I could.”

Dean let out a heavy breath, surprised by how good it felt to have her here with him. He dropped his head against her belly, allowing her to coil her arm around his neck and stroke his head like he was a little boy, needing the comfort. He let himself be held by her because for a few moments, the weight in his chest felt a little more bearable. Dean supposed it was no surprise she was here. He’d suspected she might come afte he'd told her what was happening but his head had been too filled with Sam to give it further thought.

He almost told her she didn’t have to but stopped himself. He was glad she was here. Dean needed her.

When he lifted his gaze to her, Buffy saw just how devastated he was. He looked as lost and helpless as she’d feared he might be.

"I don't know what to do Counsellor," he admitted with clear despair, "they've done all the can do but it’s not good enough." His voice was shaking, like it could break at any time.

Drawing in her breath, she took her face in his and said firmly, “Dean, come with me. I think I can help.”

*******

"Come on Sammy!" Faith snapped, holding Sam Winchester down as he convulsed and shook against his bed. He was jerking up and down violently, the eyes behind his closed eyelids moving back and forth furiously, as if he were experiencing a terrible nightmare and could not awaken.

“Get your hands off him!” The nurse behind Faith, tried to prise her off but Faith was having none of it. She was determined to hold Sam down, to let the treatment she’d administered do its work without him falling out of his bed. Sprawled across the floor near the door, Sam’s doctor lay unconscious, having been put there by Faith when he’d tried to get in her way.

Oblivious to the dramatics taking place around him, Sam continued to convulse, causing everyone in the room to give him their undivided attention. Faith was still wrestling with the nurse trying to pull her away from his bed, while outside an orderly was calling for security.

“Come on, you’re tougher than this!” Faith shouted at him. “You threw down with Lucifer for Christ sake, you can snap out of it!”

“Let him go! We’re calling security!” The nurse whom Faith had secretly named ‘Rachet’ was still trying to get her away from Sam and Faith was struggling to keep from knocking the woman out like the doctor on the floor.

When she and Buffy had arrived at the hospital, Buffy had gone to look for Dean while Faith went to Sam’s room. Buffy knew the alias the duo were using so it wasn’t difficult to find Sam _Doherty’s_ room. Even though they’d been talking to each other over the phone and had occasion to share a beer or two a month ago, Faith was unprepared for the state she found Sam in when she walked into his hospital room. Whatever was left of her composure shattered at the sight of him. He looked almost dead and the fear that thought struck in her heart was so strong she was reacting before she had time to pause and consider her actions.

Faith injected the vial of mohra blood straight into his arm.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean demanded when he and Buffy reached the room amidst the chaos.  
“Faith what the heck did you do?” Buffy asked, looking down at the unconscious physician on the floor. The whole damn hospital was going to show up soon, she cursed to herself.

“I gave him the stuff,” Faith retorted and slammed her elbow back. It connected with the nurse’s face and she crumpled behind her.

“Jesus!” Dean exclaimed, catching the woman before she hit the ground. “What stuff? What did you do?” He demanded again, eyes widening in horror as he saw Sam’s body convulsing. The bed was rocking as Sam’s head tossed from side to side.

“We gave him the mohra blood.” Faith explained, “He just needs to ride out its effects.”

“What the hell is a mohra?” Dean shot Buffy a look as he set the unconscious nurse down on a chair.

 _Oh he was not going to like this_ , Buffy thought before answering, “A demon.”

“DEMON BLOOD?” Dean exploded as he stared at Buffy incredulously, “you gave my brother demon blood? Are you freaking crazy! Get your hands…”

Dean moved towards Faith, ready to haul her off Sam when suddenly, Sam’s convulsions stopped and the patient monitor next to his bed started beeping louder and faster. The sluggish and limping readings of the past two days began to spike with life. Heart rate, blood pressure and respiration began to gain momentum and Dean found himself transfixed as Sam’s skin which had been pale and sallow, regain its former colour.

For a few seconds, no one could speak. The commotion beyond the room went unnoticed because the three were transfixed by the patient in the bed. While the transformation was not quite instantaneous, it was nonetheless rapid. Only Buffy had presence of mind to tear herself away from the scene to lock the door to the room, twisting the handle sharply enough for it to snap, ensuring no one would be barging in at least for the next few minutes.

“Is it working?” Dean asked, almost afraid of the answer. He didn’t dare to hope but the evidence of his eyes before him gave Dean good reason to.

“I think so,” Faith nodded, feeling the swell of relief rising to the fore inside of her.

And then with his eyes still closed, Sam Winchester spoke up in a slurred voice and asked, “What’s working?”


	2. A Weird Dysfunctional Family

**NOVEMBER 28**

**THANKSGIVING….**

Buffy Summers glanced at the clock.

She wasn't nervous. No not at all. He said they'd be here and Buffy took Dean Winchester on his word. He'd made the effort on previous occasions when she casually slipped that she had to go to this thing or that, be it party and one time, a wedding, and added it would be nice to have a date. He didn't always make it back but when he did, it meant the world to Buffy.

She knew he was up to his ears in angel stuff. The irony of 'angel' stuff having nothing to do with a vampire with a soul was not lost on her. No, these were honest to God angels. Not the fluffy winged cherubs adorning Valentine Day cards but the kind who kicked ass and took down names. They fought in the armies of God, did the smiting on Sodom and Gomorrah and paid house calls to Jewish virgins. Of all the things she'd faced in her time, the possibility they could exist never even registered in Buffy's world.

Of course Buffy's world wasn't what it used to be. Nothing proved it more than the meteor shower a few months ago. Far from being stray space rocks, this meteor shower was in fact angels falling to Earth, displaced from heaven by one of their own by a spell banishing them to the Earthly plane. They were trapped on Earth and pissed. Worse yet, being cut off from heaven meant they were forced to adapt to Earth or rather trying to adapt the Earth to them.

According to Dean, this was not a good thing.

The brother spent the last few months after Faith dosed Sam Winchester with mohra blood and restored him to full health, trying to remove the spell and send, as Dean put it, ' _those heavenly douchebags back to where they came from_ '. With Faith acting as liaison, they were getting help from the other slayers and the Watcher Council. While the relationship between hunters and slayers was still new, having a common purpose to work toward seemed to be smoothing the way between the two groups.

 

"Dawnie, can you start making the cranberry sauce?" Buffy sang out to her little sister from the kitchen. Dawn was on the sofa watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade with Xander.

Xander had made an attempt to spend Thanksgiving with his parents but inevitably, as it happened every year, the atmosphere at the Harris home became so toxic he'd always end up here at Casa Summers, as he'd taken to calling Buffy's home. This year he'd left his wife Catherine at home in England because their one year old infant was too young to travel and Catherine didn’t share same attachment to the American holiday as he did. Besides, she didn’t mind missing it if could visit with his friends. Catherine was well aware of the deep friendship of the former Scoobies and ad never stood in the way of any chance they had to get together.

"I can do it," Willow Rosenberg volunteered and entered the kitchen.

The former Sunnydale resident and Wiccan had made the trip from her coven in Boston to join Buffy for the holiday. Like Xander, Willow was visiting without her wife Kennedy. Kennedy was spending Thanksgiving with her parents who insisted she make an appearance this year. Not wanting inflict their snobby behaviour on Willow, Kennedy offered to go alone, allowing Willow the chance to spend the holidays with Buffy and her 'real' family. With Xander here too, it would be like old times.

"Thanks," Buffy flashed Willow a smile, thrilled at her best friend being here. Even though they lived hundred miles apart, they were never out of each other’s lives. Thanks to social media, they were in contact daily. She only wished Giles was able to make it but as head of the Watcher Council but with the current angel crisis, he simply couldn't get away.

"Stop being nervous," Willow touched Buffy's shoulder affectionately. "It will be fine. Hey we got used to Angel right?  How bad could Dean be?"

"Funny," Buffy stuck her tongue at Willow who caught the face as she opened the door and giggled.

"I'm not nervous." Buffy declared defiantly even though she was. 

Like Dawn, Willow and Xander were family and she so wanted them to like Dean. Angel’s relationship with the Scoobies was turbulent to say the least, particularly after Angelus appeared. For once, Buffy wanted to have someone in her life they liked as much as they liked Riley and with less fear than they regarded Angel. Of course where Dean sat in the middle of that comparison, she had no idea but it was also important he got along with the most important people in her life. 

"Hey make extra, Dean said that he and Sam might be bringing two more."

"Oh? Who?" Willow asked as she took out the punnett cranberries from the refrigerator.

"Kevin. Dean says he's a prophet. Poor kid was sitting his SATs when he got tapped. It’s been rough on him and Dean thinks he needs some normal time before he fries his brains trying to figure out how to reverse the angel spell."

Buffy paused a moment a little and added, "I think Dean's kind of worried about him."

"Awww that's sweet," Willow smiled, liking what she had been hearing about this Dean Winchester. In fact, the whole thing about Hunters fascinated the remaining Scoobies to no end. How great would it have been when they were in Sunnydale to know that there were adults out there who knew all about monsters and could have helped them fight some of the nasties creeping out of the Hellmouth? Willow remembered how frightened she was the first time she faced a vampire before realising all that stood between them and her was a five something blond transfer who was nicer than anyone like her ought to be.

"He is," Buffy sighed, lapsing into an affectionate smile. "It’s never going to be normal between us but I think that's why it works."

"Hello, gay Wiccan who’s married to a slayer?" Willow reminded her with a wink. "When has normal ever worked for any of us? Between the three of us, we've dated a vampire, a werewolf, an Incan mummy girl, a giant praying mantis and...."

"Okay!" Buffy stopped her, laughing about all the weird romances they'd had in the past. "Now you're just freaking me out!"

Still, Willow had come out of it well as Buffy recalled hers and Kennedy's wedding on the beach. It was perfect with Buffy thrilled for Willow after the terrible loss of Tara. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and Buffy's eyes widened like she was the deer trapped in front of car headlights about to be run over. "Oh God, that's him. I'll get it!"

"Yeah right!" Dawn cried out from the living room and was already jumping off the sofa, running to the door ahead of Buffy, victory splitting smile on her face when she got there first.

"Dawnie!" Buffy shouted as Dawn swung open the door to get her first look at her sister's mysterious and according to Faith, _hot_ boyfriend.

"Welcome to Casa Summers!" Dawn exclaimed, "Oh BOYFRIEND OF BUFFY!"

Dean blinked at the greeting and saw the girl, who was taller than Buffy, with the same gorgeous blond hair and blue eyes, being wrestled away from the door in a way that could only be done by a big sister. This had to be Dawn, Dean thought with a smirk. Only a sibling could get away with crap like that and on cue, Dean stiffened at hearing Sam chuckle in amusement behind him. Sam knew just how much Dean hated being called _anyone's_ boyfriend.

"Makes me sound like I should be picking her up to go to the Malt Shop," Dean had complained.

"Brat!" Buffy swore and then turned to Dean. Her expression softened when her eyes met his. "Hey," she greeted with a radiant smile.

_Bullet to the brain_ , Dean thought seeing that smile. She had no idea how much power it had over him and his reaction to it was just as strong as the first time he’d seen it. He closed in and raised her chin with his thumb, leaning in to plant a deep, passionate kiss on her lips.

"Hey Counsellor," he winked as he saw her turn red. Dean loved it when she got all prissy on him. He knew she was nervous about him meeting her friends and to a degree he was too but Dean knew worrying about it wasn't going to do any good. They either liked him or they didn't. Still, if they cared about her enough to put up with a vampire, Dean figured he was a shoo-in. Right?

"Okay, okay," Dawn interrupted again, returning to Buffy and hip bumping her as she stared Dean down "You two can do kissy face later, right now I want to know what are your intentions towards my sister."

"Dawnie!" Buffy exclaimed aghast, waved Dawn away from the door. "Please come in and ignore my sister, my mom dropped her as a baby and she hasn't been right since."

"That's okay," Dean chuckled and stepped through the doorway before glancing at Sam and remarked with smarmy smile, "I can relate."

"You wish," Sam gave Dean a look. "It was you mom dropped." Sam countered before turning his attention to Buffy and greeting her with that big lopsided smile of his. "Hi Buffy thanks for inviting us over."

"So you're the brat huh?" Dean regarded Dawn, who when not behaving like a brat was apparently an upcoming New York lawyer. He liked that she had such a wicked sense of humour. "Nice to meet you."

"That’s me," the Brat said and looked over Dean and his younger brother. Both were definitely hot and Sam was just TALL. Faith hadn't been kidding. "Nice to meet you at last, Buffy's been talking about you non-stop." She grinned. "It’s Dean this, it’s Dean that....!"

"I give up!" Buffy groaned turning even redder.

"Well that goes without saying..." Dean grinned cockily, head growing so large he might have trouble holding it up.

"Come on Dawnster, before Buffy gets out her stake," Xander interrupted, coming to Buffy's rescue before she completely flipped out. "Hi I'm Xander. Best friend and token male." He extended towards Buffy’s boyfriend who appeared to be struggling with how to deal with Dawn’s attempts to embarrass her.

“Xander, that wasn’t cool when I was fifteen…” Dawn grumbled but the tactic work and she fell silent anyway.

"Hey," Dean relaxed, shaking Xander’s hand, content with knowing that guys who were _fr_ _ iendzoned _ were absolutely no threat. "Good to meet you, this is my brother Sam."

“Hey,” Sam offered a similar greeting.

“Well I’m glad some guys are here for a change. I mean Giles is a guy too but he’s British and doesn’t really count. There is way too much Gossip Girl in this house during Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh _please_ , you watch it to check out Blake Lively,” Willow retorted rolling her eyes as she joined them. “Hi I’m Willow. Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Xander retorted, “She’s crazy and total babe trumps the fact that it’s a chick show right?”

“Right, right. That’s why Dean watches Dr. Sexy.” Sam said with a smug grin on his face.

“Bitch!” Dean glared at him.

Laughing as she left Dean and Sam to her Willow and Xander, she turned her attention to the additional guests with the Winchester brothers. Buffy hadn't minded because it was Thanksgiving and he'd called the two his family and Buffy who considered the friends in the room her family as well, could appreciate the sentiment. Dean had told her about Kevin, the teenager whose carefully planned life went off the rails because he'd been called to role of prophet he neither understood nor wanted. That too, she empathized with on so many levels.

Casting her eyes on Kevin, it showed just how much it was taking its toll on him. The young man looked exhausted, with circles under his eyes and seemed painfully thin. Just looking at him made her want to give him a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay if hugging was actually allowed in schools these days. Still, she felt the instinctive need to protect him and could understand why Dean was reluctant to let Kevin out of his sight.

“Hi you must be Kevin,” she said to him kindly. “Come on in and take load off. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.”

“Thanks,” he said offering her a shy smile and appeared skittish like a fawn. “"Thanks for having us over."

"It’s no trouble," Buffy replied warmly, her maternal instincts kicking in. _Woah where the hell had that come from?_ "Guys you know where the fridge is,” she said to Dean and Sam and then added, with an eye on Dean in particular, “just don't touch anything that's meant to be served at dinner!"

"Good luck with that," Sam retorted, flashing the slab of beer they'd brought and headed for the kitchen.

"Thank you for sharing your slaughtered fowl with us," greeted Dean's other friend, the dark haired man with the pretty blue eyes whom Buffy noted Dawn was eyeing with interest, even if he was wearing an accountant's dark suit.

Buffy chuckled because his speech was so reminiscent of Anya, Xander's great love who died at the Hellmouth she actually glanced at Xander to see if he’d made the same connection. Fortunately he hadn’t. Buffy could hear him and Dean bonding over the parade and the Doctor Sexy float making its appearance on the screen.

"Thanks," Buffy played the part of gracious host, trying to put him at ease because he seemed uncomfortable. She didn't know much about angels, well the _real_ kind but she knew suddenly being human was hard. "Don't worry if all this seems bizarre to you," she took him by the arm. "We’re all a little strange in this house. You’ll get the hang of it.”

Castiel stared at her. "You've encountered others in similar situations?"

"Hell yeah," Buffy said and then recanted because it just felt wrong to say hell in front of an angel, even a depowered one. "I mean yeah. Vampires, vengeance demons, mystical barriers of energy, you name it..."

*******

 

Two hours later, everyone was at the table feasting on turkey with chestnut stuffing, cornbread, pumpkin pie, mash potatoes and the rest of the customary side dishes Buffy prepared for the occasion. After her mother’s death, it had become tradition for Buffy to cook thanksgiving dinner, especially with the Scoobies who were her extended family. On this occasion, she opted to serve the food buffet style since there were too many people in the house to fit at the dining table. The informal setting seemed more appropriate with the two camps were getting to know each other.

“How was I supposed to know that he’d rather get beaten up then be saved by me?” Buffy declared as Xander related the story of how she’d interrupted the almost fight with Larry Blaisdel back in Sunnydale High.

“Hey no guy wants a chick, even a cute blond one,” Dean winked at her, “to save his ass in a fight. It’s just not done. You could lose your guy card for that.”

“Even chess club nerds prefer to take the wedgie than get saved by a girl,” Kevin added, having intimate knowledge of this since being top of the class in almost everything ensured a bullseye was painted on his back throughout most of high school.

“See!” Xander exclaimed vindicated, “Only guys can understand what I’m talking about. I swear if the high school hadn’t gotten blown up, they’d still be calling me Xander the big sissy man.”

“Oh God!” Buffy rolled her eyes in sarcasm. “It was just the one time!”

“And Larry was huge!” Willow exclaimed. “You would have been squished!”

“Guys?” Xander gestured at the other men at the table to explain.

“Better squished than a pussy,” Dean stated.

“So it is better to be injured then rescued by a female?” Castiel spoke up, being the only one at the table who didn’t quite grasp this odd code only men seemed to have. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Welcome to the human race,” Sam returned promptly, not at all about to weigh in on the subject because he didn’t have any problem with a woman rescuing him. Especially after fighting alongside Faith and Buffy. Of course, he didn’t think female mud wrestling should be an Olympic sport either.

“Don’t worry,” Dawn flashed Castiel a flirty smile at the so pretty angel. “I’ll help you through it.”

“Oh Gawd,” Xander rolled his eyes at the come hither look Dawn was throwing at Castiel. “What is it with Summers’ women and angels…OW!”

“Oh sorry,” Buffy said innocently, batting her eyes at Xander. “My foot slipped.”

“Cas is just figuring out how all the parts work Dawn,” Dean replied, picking up Dawn’s interest in Castiel. Aside from the fact that Dean had no idea how the older Summers girl might feel about her baby sister tangling with an angel, even a freshly humanized one, Dean wasn’t entirely sure that Cas was ready to take on the opposite sex when the guy was still getting used to the basics, like eating, sleeping and taking a leak.

“I can help,” Dawn said with a smile.

“No you really _can’t_ ,” Buffy gave Dawn a warning glare.

“I don’t understand…” Castiel glanced at Dean and then Dawn, trying to figure out what the two were talking about.

Buffy was about to comment further when she saw Sam glancing at the door once more. She had seen him doing it repeatedly and realised

Leaving Dean to explain things to Cas, Sam cast a furtive glance at the door even though he knew he ought to give up hope that Faith was showing up to the meal. She’d told him she’d tried to make it but Sam sensed that holidays didn’t hold the same meaning for her as it did the rest of them. While he understood her reasoning, Sam couldn’t deny hoping that she might show up anyway. Even before she and Buffy had saved his life with mohra blood, Sam and Faith had frequent contact either through phone calls or the occasional meeting where they’d shoot pool and knock back a couple of beers. Despite the obvious attraction they had for each other, Faith and Sam had circled each other with no rush to move their platonic relationship to the next level.

“Give it up man, your girlfriend’s not showing.” Dean remarked, catching Sam’s eyes and knowing exactly what was running through that big coconut of his.

“I know that and she’s not my girlfriend,” Sam retorted defensively, trying to feign nonchalance when he really was disappointed she hadn’t shown up tonight. Still, in keeping with what he knew about her, Sam wasn’t all that surprised either.

“Faith’s never been big on holidays Sam,” Willow said kindly, having developed a closer relationship with her over the years than anyone else at the table. It was Willow who returned Faith to the fold in the last days of Sunnydale, and convinced Faith that Buffy needed her help to fight the First. “She’ll probably roll in tomorrow, after all the hoopla and thanksgivingee goodness is over.”

“Yeah don’t take it personally man,” Xander added his voice to the mix, feeling the need to show some guy solidarity, especially when he had some experience in the subject of Faith. “She must like you if she hasn’t thrown you out in the street with nothing but your clothes and what’s left of your dignity a crumpled pile in your hands….”

“Xander please stop,” Buffy groaned.

“Yeah please,” Sam pleaded, wishing the subject dropped. Still he wondered where Faith had gotten to and hoped her absence was only due to her dislike of holidays and not because something else was happening.

  
  
  



	3. Where everybody knows your name

The town was called Brooksville.

It could have been called Podunk for all Faith cared because it amounted to about the same. With a population of less than a thousand people, sitting on the coast of Penobscot Bay, Faith found it laughable a town this small could be divided into different villages, north, south, and west and harbour side. Still, it was as pretty as a postcard with most of the buildings on Main Street displaying Cape Cod architecture, painted in whites and blues, like a Norman Rockwell painting.

She’d been on her way back from Portland after finishing off a nest of vampires when she decided the sleepy town was the perfect place to hideout during the holidays. While Buffy’s offer to spend Thanksgiving with her and the rest of the Scoobies was nice, Faith couldn’t bring herself to join them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to catch up with Willow and Xander, she did. Not to mention the fact it was a chance to catch up with Sam Winchester but the truth of it was Faith didn’t do Thanksgiving.

Growing as she had in Boston, Faith’s memories of the holidays were like the rest of her childhood, unpleasant. While other families celebrated Thanksgiving by spending it together, eating turkey dinners, playing football or watching the parades on television, Faith would be hiding out under her bed while Mr and Mrs Leanne, both drunk as skunks, hurled abuse at each other until someone called the cops. This was usually followed by a week in foster care before she was released into the same toxic environment.

Yeah, she hadn’t much to be thankful for back then.

Perched on top of a barstool while leaning across the counter, with at least four empty shot glasses in front of her, Faith was working herself up into a nice bit of drunk. The bar was cosy, well lit where it needed to be, dim beneath the booths in the corner where it wasn’t. A jukebox and pinball machine sat against the wall, lifelong companions by the age of the songs and theme of the game being Rocky III. The rest of the decor was straight out of a fish boat motif, nets, harpoons and mounted fish.

It was 9.00 pm on Thanksgiving night with only a handful of patrons were on the premises. An old man epitomising the word ‘sea dog’ sat at the edge of the bar, working his way through a tall bottle of bourbon. A man and woman occupied a booth, whispering and canoodling it seemed. Husbands, who obviously escaped the house so they could watch the game, were congregated around the rabbit-eared cathode ray TV while the bored waitress studied her phone on the other end of the bar.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Faith glanced up to see the bartender, a tall, older man with a bushy moustache and a long nose that sat above it like an awning, looking at her. His gaze didn’t appear critical, merely curious. He was polishing a shot glass with a towel as he waited for her to answer.

“Nope,” she shook her head. “This is the place.” Her words weren’t exactly slurred but there was no doubt she was drunk.

“You passing through?”

Brookesville was a small town where everyone knew everyone. This woman, with her shiny red lips, leather jacket and her seemingly bad girl demeanour, was definitely a stranger. And while the tough persona might scare off some, it was the sad, haunting eyes compelling him to speak to her.

“Yep, on my way to Cleveland.” Faith threw back her drink and slammed the small shot glass against the bar. “Keep ‘em coming.”

He raised a bushy eyebrow at her, trying to decide whether or not he should cut her off or at the very least, take her car keys. People on their own during the holidays, drinking on their like this, usually had a streak of self-destruction you needed to keep an eye out on or else. This woman was sending him all kinds of red flags and the fact she had no people anywhere in the locality made him feel doubly responsible for her.

“Where are you staying?” He asked, putting the clean glass on the shelf behind him.

“You offering me a place to stay Handle Bars?” She winked, her manner going from drunk to flirt in one question. She leaned forward across the bar, lips curling in a smile.

He laughed. “No ma’am. Just wondering if you’re walking or driving to where you’re staying tonight.”

“Oh,” her face scrunched up into a pout of disappointment. “Here I thought I was going to get lucky.”

“It was nice of you to think that,” he was certain she was flattering him. He was after all almost seventy, even if he was in good shape. A fisherman's life had made him strong and lean but while he didn’t have a wife at home, making it with a woman less than half his age was an indignity he wasn’t allowing his ego to partake. “I’m just wanting to make sure you get home safe.”

“Don’t have a home,” she shrugged, tapping the glass again.

After a momentary pause, he served her another short of tequila even though he was promised himself to find out how she was getting home if she asked for another. “How come?”

“Rolling stone,” she joked. “Job takes me across the country. No need for it.”

“What kind of job? Travelling salesgirl?’”

She uttered a laugh and it was surprisingly dry and pleasing to hear. Some women didn’t laugh so much as they brayed, or giggled like they were silly teenagers. She sounded like neither. It was light chuckle, like the funny things for her, weren’t all that funny to everyone else.

She was about to answer when voices interrupted the quiet, lethargic atmosphere of the bar. In the corner, the couple who until now kept to themselves were now engaged in an argument. It was mostly the man barking and the girl offering contrite words to placate him. It was only when the slap of flesh was heard that Faith sat up ramrod straight on the barstool.

The happy drunk the bartender, or Dan as he was known, was talking to suddenly vanished. In her place, was this force of righteousness sliding off the barstool and striding across the floor, with no hint the alcohol she’d been drinking affecting her in the slightest. Suspecting the mood was going to get ugly, Dan slipped out from behind the bar and followed her.

The girl in the booth didn’t even look old enough to drink. She was blonde, too thin and wearing a studded denim jacket over a dark floral dress. When Faith approached, she looked up and revealed more than the red cheek of a slap. There were the healing signs of a black eye and punch to the jaw. The man sitting next to her was older, possibly thirty. Big, broad nosed and burly, he reminded Faith of Larry whathisname back in Sunnydale. Immediately, she pegged as a football player who still thought he was the star quarterback.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Faith leaned forward, both hands on the table eyeballing him with challenge.

“You?” He laughed and then added, “Fuck off. This is between me and my girl.”

That was more than enough to prompt Faith into action. She reached across the table and grabbed him by the jacket before yanking him out of the booth with ease. The girl squealed as she watched her boyfriend being dragged across the table, sending her glass and his empties, crashing to the floor.

He flipped onto his back as Faith let go of him, training a stream of curses and swearing. Before he could get up, Faith planted a boot against his chest and held it there. With the full weight of slayer strength behind her, he was unable to get up and stared at her mystified, unable to imagine how this five foot nothing woman was keeping him pinned.

“Don’t hurt him!” The girl pleaded. “He didn’t mean it!”

By now, all eyes were on them, mostly they were staring at the dark haired woman in the jacket who had yanked the six foot three former quarterback out of his seat and pinned him to the ground like a bug. Faith was too drunk to care if she had an audience l. She hated men like this and she hated girls who put up with it almost as much.

“I bet he won’t mean it when he kills you either,” Faith shot back at her, whose face immediately dropped because the words penetrated. Without even hearing her say it, Faith her words mirrored the girl’s own fears.

“Get off me you fucking bitch!” He demanded, his humiliation heightening his fury “Amy you tell this crazy lesbian dyke to get off me or we’re done!”

“Seems to me you need to ask a little nice considering you’re on the floor” Dan remarked standing behind Faith. By now, the men who were watching the game had shifted their attention to the commotion and were sniggering to themselves at the former football hero being wailed on by a girl.

“Fuck you!”

“Say you’re sorry,” Faith insisted looking at Amy, wishing she would see what kind of scum she allowing to treat her this way.

“It’s alright!” Amy jumped quickly to his defence, tugging at Faith’s arm so she’d step off him. “Stevie doesn’t do it all the time, it’s just when I’m being stupid.”

Faith was ready to snap his neck just for Amy’s response. It was always the same thing with these guys. They always found the weakest one in the pack and preyed on them. Using their insecurities and fears against them to explain abusive behaviour.

“That don’t make it right Amy,” Dan found himself saying. He knew Amy and Stevie and to his shame, confessed, ignoring the bruises whenever she came in. Sometimes, it just needed a perfect stranger to point out the obvious, not just to Amy but to him as well. “This lady here is right. It won’t be long before Stevie does something worse. If you keep letting him to do this to you, when will it end?”

In retaliation, Stevie snarled back. “I won’t be doing anything to her! We’re done Amy! I don’t need to waste my time on a dumb bitch like you!”

Faith slammed her foot on his stomach and made him double over before she removed her foot. He rolled onto his knees and coughing, with Amy rushing to his side. However, when she tried to help him, he shoved Amy away and got to his feet. Glaring at Faith, she thought he might throw a punch but the presence of Dan and other men at the bar, made him think better of it. Faith turned her attention to Amy and felt sick at the girl’s crushed expression. She wouldn’t be getting any thanks for this, not when Amy still thought the sun shone out of Stevie’s ass.

“You get your stuff out of my house by tomorrow Amy!” Stevie shot his girlfriend a look of ice. Someone had to pay for this humiliation and he might as well be here. “You’re a lousy lay and your tits are too small. I can do better.”

“Stevie please!” She begged but he ignored her and stormed out of the place.

Amy started to cry and Faith felt guilty, realising she’d upended this girl’s life by her interference because of her own demons. Still, she was if she was going to sit idly by and let Amy be Steve’s punching bag. Those bruises on Amy’s face, clearer now that she was out of the booth, implied the frequency of the beatings. If Stevie dumped Amy, it might possibly be the best thing for her.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” She spat at Faith. “I didn’t need your help! Now look at what you’ve done!”

“Girl you don’t deserve what he was doing to you.” Faith countered even though she knew it was a losing argument. “No guy is worth that!”

“SHUT UP!” Amy snapped angrily, having heard the same argument from so many of her friends, who were now not friends anymore. “You don’t know anything!”

With that, she ran out after Stevie, pushing past Dan as she made for the door.

Faith almost went after the girl but she felt Dan’s hand on her shoulder. “Don’t ma’am,” he advised. “You did good thing but some people, they can’t be helped.”

With a sigh, Faith couldn’t disagree. Some things you had to learn the hard way. She knew that better than anybody.

*******

By the time Amy reached the parking lot of the bar called Dan’s Fishin’ Hole, she saw Stevie’s black pickup truck speed out of the parking lot, tyres screeching across the black road as he drove into the main street. Where he’d parked earlier, was a collection of random objects discarded haphazardly, all belonging to her. A book, a sweater and a small bag of cosmetics she kept in his glove compartment were now rubbish on the road.

“STEVIE!” She yelled after him but he barely noticed her over the roar of the truck’s engines as he drove away.

Crying, she walked over to the spot and knelt down against the dark bitumen, tears running down her stinging face where he’d slapped her. Trembling, she picked up her belongings and shoved them into her handbag. What was she going to do tonight? Because of him, she no longer had any friends. If she couldn’t convince him to take her back, she’d have to go her mother’s. The thought filled Amy with despair, largely because her mother Patricia would remind her they were estranged in the first place. Patricia knew what kind of man her Amy was dating.

“You are crying daughter.”

Amy looked up startled, not hearing the approach of the stranger standing in front of her.

The woman was tall and graceful. Jet coloured hair fell down her shoulders, the ends curling into soft ringlets. Her eyes were brown and her skin was slightly tanned, making Amy think she was Italian or Greek. Her dress was a simple shift that swirled around her ankles and was more appropriate to summer, certainly not the cold of a New England winter that would set a normal person’s teeth chattering by now. She wasn’t even wearing shoes.

The strangeness of her appearance made Amy forget all about Stevie for the moment or the fact she was now homeless. In a night where everything seemed to be coming to a head in her life, Amy was almost grateful for the distraction.

“Aren’t you cold?”

The woman didn’t answer. Instead, she dropped to her knees in front of Amy and reached for Amy’s cheeks. Her touch felt warm despite the fact she should be freezing.

“Why these tears?” Her fingers brushed the moisture on her cheek. There was sympathy and kindness in her voice, like she wanted to help or give Amy a hug. Oddly enough, a hug would have been real nice about now.

“It’s nothing,” Amy wiped her eyes but found herself spilling the truth to this woman anyway. “It’s my boyfriend Stevie. He broke up with me and kicked me out. I didn’t mean for that girl in the bar to hurt him. She just didn’t understand that I’m stupid sometimes and he needs to make me understand. It’s not his fault!”

The woman brushed a finger over her cheek as if she was staring at some unschooled child.

“You are not stupid daughter. It is men who are stupid. Do you know God did not give much thought to his creation before Adam’s making? God simply wanted someone to rule over the beast of the world he made. When he made woman, God had more time to consider the making of her and so Lilith came forth stronger and smarter.”

Amy tilted her head at the woman, “I thought Eve came after Adam.” She asked sniffling.

“Oh no, Lilith was Adam’s first true wife. She was his equal and she would not yield to him as Eve did. It was Lilith who left Adam and became the mother of all demons.”

Her words were hypnotic and Amy listened to her as if she were the sole recipient of some unspoken law of the universe only she was privy to.

“He doesn’t mean to hurt me...” she tried to explain Stevie. “Sometimes, he’s real nice but when he gets angry because I do something dumb, he loses his temper.”

The woman took her hand and once again, Amy was struck by how warm she was despite the fact she was dressed in almost nothing. “No man should ever sit higher than a woman. Men were made poorly and it is this bad design that allows them to presume to rule over us. We share equality with God not with man. Like God, we can create life while men only create chaos.”

“We need men to have babies...”

“Do we?” She looked at Amy smiling. “Do we really?”

******

Goddamn bitch!

Steve Hendler dragged open the drawer where Amy kept all her stuff and immediately upended it on the floor, raining bras and other delicates at his feet. Bending over, he scooped them up with both hands and marched over to the bedroom window. Not pausing to pick up any pieces he’d dropped on the way, he lifted the latch and let the cold air into the one bedroom apartment.

Tomorrow, he’d probably wake up and realise he’d made a mistake. Girls like Amy were hard to find. Low esteem and a willingness to please, conditioned her to put up with anything as long as Amy thought Stevie loved her. She’d never have the spine to leave him and maybe when he’d calmed down after being humiliated by that dyke bitch in the Fishing Hole, he’d take her back.

For now, she needed to know who was boss. A night scrounging for a place to sleep would be the perfect teacher.

Tossing the handful of clothes out through window, he smiled with satisfaction as he watched the pieces of fabric drift on the wind. Eventually they made it to the grounds of the two storey apartment block he was living in. The clothes were scattered across the grass on the tops of bushes and benches, a lovely tableau for her to see when she came crawling back to her tomorrow.

Turning back into the apartment, he scanned the place for other traces of her and sighted one of her posters on the wall. With the same malicious spite, he ripped her Ed Sheeran poster in half, leaving the glued edges on the wall paper. Satisfied, he tossed the balled remnants on the carpe and then went to the fridge and to get himself a beer.

He heard the doorknob twist.

Stevie lifted his head and stared down the hallway, surprised. He expected she’d crawl home to her mother and come back in the morning, ready to suck his cock if he’d only take her back. Maybe she’d learned her lesson quickly this time, and was going to make it up to him sooner rather than later. He stepped into the hallway when the door swung open and sure enough, it was Amy standing there.

You better make it worth my while if you want to stay here tonight Amy.”

She didn’t speak and closed the distance between them. As she approached, he noticed there was something different about her. She moved gracefully, not like the usual nervous shuffle her feet seemed to make. Her blue eyes took him in like she was drinking him in, savouring the moment. It was almost predatory. He liked how it looked until he remembered; he was the one in charge here.

“You want to stay, get on your knees. You know what to do.”

Her eyes met his and there was a strange smile on her lips, which also seemed fuller. The bruises he’d left behind were no longer there and her pale skin glowed. Her blond hair was almost shimmering under the light and Stevie realised he’d forgotten how pretty she was when she wasn’t crying or whining.

Still silent, she came right up to him. Was she wearing a new perfume, he wondered? Away from the bar, with its reek of alcohol and smoke, the sweet scent of something floral tickled at his nose and made him lean in. The action made her smile and her lips were red and slick, invited him to kiss her.

“I said,” he repeated himself, needing to exert his power because he felt as if her were losing it. “On your knees.”

Before he could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed full on the mouth. It was a kiss of power and confidence. She invaded his mouth with her tongue, tasting and probing. For the first time, she was the one driving the kiss. The idea of it make him bristled and in turn, he slipped his tongue past her teeth, forcing it like he intended to force other things in her mouth soon enough. Reaching for her head, he prepared to shove her down when suddenly; he felt her teeth snap shut like a mouse trap.

The pain that followed was so blinding he shrieked except he could make no sound. It took him a split second to realise his cry was severed the same time as his tongue had been by her teeth.

Blood filled his mouth as he staggered backwards in excruciating pain, eyes widening in terror as he watched her standing there, his tongue dangling from her lips. For a moment, he thought of a dog holding a piece of steak in its mouth and visual filled him nausea. Blood ran down in rivulets across her chin as she closed the distance between. He tried to warn her back but instead found himself pressed up against the same wall he’d ripped her poster from.

Waiving his arms wildly at her to stay way, the cries he made were little more than a sickly gurgle, his words little more than garbled sounds. The pain was making him swoon but he did notice one thing as the world swirled around him. She’d gotten to her knees in front of him and said in a voice not quite her own.

“As you wish.”

And snapped her teeth.


	4. Road Trip

When Giles rang on Sunday, three days after Thanksgiving, she assumed he was calling to report some important bit of business for the Council. He’d already rung on Thanksgiving to make up for not joining her and the rest of the Scoobies for the holidays so another call so soon surprised her.

Buffy picked up the cordless phone and retreated to her bedroom to take the call so she could hear him over the chatter of her guests.

Since Thanksgiving, Casa Summers had become the house at Revello Drive during the last days of Sunnydale, where she’d played host to dozens of potential slayers. With Willow and Dawn sharing a room, Xander bunking with Kevin while Sam and Castiel spent the night in sleeping bags on the living room floor, she could barely hear herself think let alone conduct a sane conversation with the man she considered her surrogate father. Especially when a second call so soon after his last, usually meant something was wrong.

“What’s up Giles?”

“Oh well, it’s probably nothing but it’s better to be safe than sorry...” he stammered in his very English manner before finally getting to the reason for his call. “Have you heard from Faith?”

While hearing him stutter like that was always amusing, there was no hiding the underlying tension in his voice so she didn’t waste time teasing him.

“No but you know Faith. She doesn’t do Thanksgiving. Why?”

Faith going on silent running was nothing unusual. Unlike Buffy who craved normalcy and wanted a fixed address as well as a daytime job that didn’t involve prowling around cemeteries at night, Faith relished her role as slayer. She lived out of hotels and drove from mission to mission, pausing long enough to visit with friends whenever she was in the vicinity. But Giles knew all this and if he was worried, something else was going on.

“I am aware she tends to avoid civilisation during the holidays but she does check in with me in to let me know where she is in case of emergencies. I haven’t heard from since she left Portland after cleaning out the nest of vampires there and neither have any of the other slayers. She implied she might stop over in Lawrence after Thanksgiving.”

While Buffy might not hear from her for weeks on end, Buffy knew she would not so dark on Giles. Despite his position as head of the Council, Giles had insisted he remain the Watcher for both Buffy and Faith, even if Buffy was in semi-retirement. Despite the rocky start to their relationship, GIles took Faith under his wing after Sunnydale to show her she’d earned his trust and in turn she could always rely on him, as much as Buffy had.  
Because of this, the two had developed a close enough relationship Buffy knew Faith valued, too much to worry him unnecessarily.

“You’re worried about her,” Buffy didn’t so much as ask him rather than state it as fact.

“I am a little concerned about her,” he finally admitted. “She knows the importance of checking in and it’s unlike her to simply ignore it.”

Giles’ worry was affecting and now the seed was planted in her head, Buffy started to feel the same. “Do you know where she was the last time you heard from her?”

“She said she was going to stop at a town call Brookesville. I’ve telephoned the hotels in the area and so far, I’ve yet to get anyone on the line. According to the weather report, northern Maine is experiencing some rather heavy snowfall.”

Even in bad weather, Faith would manage to call. All slayers were equipped with SAT phones to ensure they were never out of contact for very long. After the Bringers devastated their numbers years before, the Council was determined to ensure the survival of all activated and potential slayers going forward. No longer was losing a slayer a thing to be accepted. With Giles at the helm of the new Council, saving slayers was a priority, something for which Buffy was grateful.

“Giles hang up,” Buffy said coming to a decision. “I'll call you back in ten minutes.”

******

Before she stepped out of bedroom, Buffy checked the weather report on her smartphone and discovered it was as bad as Giles described it. A cold front was moving in over northern Maine, causing blizzard conditions. This meant the likelihood of getting a flight was low since the airports in the region had started closing. A train would take even more time and if Faith checked in during the journey, she’d be stuck on board until the next stop. There was only one alternative.

Emerging into the living room, Buffy surveyed the scene and found herself smiling despite the serious turn of events. Dean was on the sofa with Xander, bonding over Gossip Girl, while Willow was geeking out over John Winchester’s diary, with Sam answering her questions about it. Dawn, Castiel and Kevin were flipping through the family albums she’d managed to save before Sunnydale sunk into hellmouth. It had been a perfect Thanksgiving with Dean meeting Willow and Xander and everyone getting along as if they’d always been a part of Buffy’s extended family.

Now she was the one about to bring this holiday to an abrupt end.

“Sam, have you heard from Faith at all since you’ve been here?”

Sam raised his eyes to her, trying to appear unembarrassed at being called out at how frequently he and Faith conversed. Nevertheless, it was true. They were in communication almost daily. If not by texts or phone calls, then through the funny videos or memes they often sent each other. While he’d been disappointed by the lack of contact over Thanksgiving, he understood her reasons after Willow’s explanation.

“No, not since last week,” he confessed, making a face at Dean who was giving him that smug ‘sure, you not interested in her at all’ smirk from the sofa.

“Is something wrong?” Willow asked, her lips pouting slightly as they did whenever she was worried.

“There might be,” she frowned and then turned to Dean. “Dean how long will it take to drive to Maine?”

The question told Dean immediately, the situation had just been upgraded from worried to serious. He sat up from the sofa and noted the stoney expression on her face, what he called Buffy in battle mode. “With two people sharing the driving, we’d get there in a little over a day.”

Buffy’s shoulder sagged. If something was seriously wrong then a day was too long. Unfortunately, it was still the fastest way to reach Faith.

“I’m sorry I don’t have my angel powers,” Castiel said apologetically. “If I had I could have taken you there.”

“It’s okay Cas,” she smiled at him for the thought.

“I could try a teleportation spell,” Willow suggested and Buffy saw Dean tense immediately at the suggestion. The hunters still had difficulty believing witches could be good when the only kind they had thus encountered were the dark witches, like Amy.

“Willow you haven’t done a spell like that in years and it wipes you out,” Xander reminded. “We might need you for something more important if Faith is in real trouble.”

“We’ll drive,” Dean stated, indicating he had no wish to be teleported anywhere. It was bad enough when Cas did it, he didn’t think he could handle Willow making an attempt.

“Buffy what’s going on?” Dawn asked, wanting more details other than the fact her sister was going to be driving halfway across the country because of Faith.

“Giles hasn’t heard from her Faith three days. She’s not answering her cell either. He’s worried about her.”

“You know she could be on a bender. She gets that way during the holidays.” Willow shrugged, feeling guilty for stating such a sordid assumption and glanced apologetically at Sam who now appeared more emotionally invested than he led on regarding his friendship with Faith.

“Nah,” Xander discounted the possibility straight away. As part of the Watcher Council, he kept in close contact with all the Slayers as their operations commander. Faith might appear undisciplined but she obeyed the cardinal rule about staying in contact. “She knows G-Man throws a hissy fit if she doesn’t check in. She wouldn’t worry him like that.”

Sam didn’t like this at all. This meant anything could have happened to Faith in the three days since Thanksgiving. Now her silence felt ominous not typical. “Buffy, Cas and I can drive up to Brookesville, see if if we can find her.” He made the offer without thinking twice.

“You and Cas?” Dean stared at him, wondering why Sam was cutting him out of the job.

Sam cleared his throat and threw Buffy a glance. “You were all going to spend a few days with Buffy, you should do that besides I want to go. I want to know she’s alright.”

No one was happier than Sam that Dean had someone in his life. With their life as hunters, it was hard enough to make time for families and Sam felt guilty enough about what happened to Dean’s relationship with Lisa because of him. With Buffy, a slayer who understood the life they led and more importantly was capable of taking care of herself without them, it was an ideal relationship. If there was any chance for Sam to help make it work, he was willing to make the sacrifice.

“If this Faith is in need, we should get to her quickly.” Castiel advised.  
  
There was no doubt in anyone’s mind Faith was in trouble. The slayer was a lone wolf who tended to work best alone, even when she was dealing with an entire nest of vampires on her own. When she needed help, she called and the prolonged silence only drove home the possibility she had encountered something she couldn’t handle.

A wordless understanding passed between Buffy, Willow and Xander, with time and distance doing nothing to erode their deep bond and love for each other.

“If Faith is in trouble, I’m going,” Buffy stated and her tone implied, there would be no arguing with her on this point.

“So are we,” Xander added, speaking for Willow too. “It will just like the old days.”

“Scoobies together again,” Willow smiled and then reached for Sam’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ll find her Sam.”

“Well I’ve seen you drive so I’ll get us all to Maine. My Baby will take six.” Dean replied.

  
“He means the car,” Buffy said quickly, “not me, taking six and hey? What about my driving?”

“So Dean’s driving,” Xander gave Dean a look of male solidarity, understanding all about Buffy’s driving ability from experience.

“Kevin and I can stay here,” Dawn glanced at the kid who remained silent through all this. Judging by his grateful expression at the suggestion, Dawn knew she was making the right call. “We can binge watch Game of Thrones, Buffy has HBO.”

While she worried about her older sister and their friends, Dawn had been too much out of the game to be be running back into the fray. She also guessed neither Dean nor Buffy would want Kevin in the line of fire. He was just a kid.

“Thanks,” Kevin smiled gratefully. “I can be here for any research you guys need.” Already overwhelmed with being a Prophet, he didn’t know if he was cut out for monster hunting as well.

“Buffy you still have your SAT phone?” Xander asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “In my slayer trunk.”

“You have a slayer trunk?” Dean stared.

“Yeah but it’s her shoe closet that’s really scary.” Xander smirked until Buffy swatted him on the arm. “Ow! Slayer strength remember?”

“I didn’t forget,” Buffy said sweetly. “Okay if cell reception is crap because of bad weather, we can check in when we get to Maine.”

“You can keep Kevin company,” Dean replied and then glanced at Buffy. “It's okay if he hangs here right?”

“Of course,” Buffy waved a dismissive hand at him even asking such a thing. “Look this might be nothing, Faith might just be shacking up with some biker for a wild weekend over tequila and room service.”

Sam’s expression darkened in reaction. He honestly didn’t know which he would hate more. Faith in trouble or Faith with someone else.

“I’m sure it's not that,” Xander caught the look and offered his reassurance. “She’d never keep a guy for three whole days anyway.”

Sam stared at him just as Willow swatted Xander on the shoulder. “Not helping.”

“Sorry,” Xander shrugged.

“Okay,” Dean looked at Buffy. “I guess we’re going on a road trip.”

* * *

“I...I...can’t run anymore.”

Dan the owner of the Fishing Hole collapsed on the sleet covered road, panting. His exhaustion escaping into the night by short, punctuated gasps of crystallizing vapour that vanished into the darkness. Kneeling on the hard, bitumen, only his gloved hands kept him from sinking face down into the grey snow.

“Don’t give up on me now Dano!” Faith doubled back when she realised he was no longer beside her. “Come on!” She took his arm and used her slayer strength to haul him to his feet. If she had to, she’d carried his six-foot three ass to the pier they were trying to reach.

“You go!” Despite getting to this feet and looking like a deer on unsteady legs, Dan was not making any move to leave their current location. “You can get out of here! Call your slayer buddies to come stop this.”

“No can do!” She retorted. “If they show and get taken down, this problems becomes a hell of a lot more worse.”

As she spoke, she surveyed the area, trying to see through the storm of snow and wind falling across the landscape. Up ahead, she could see the tall masts of the fishing boats docked at the pier. Like the rest of Brookesville, it was shrouded in darkness. The lights had gone for almost two days ago but Faith had no idea if it was because of the weather or caused by the creatures hunting them. As a result, there were too many shadows, too many corners for Faith to imagine they had left their enemy behind.

“Christ in heaven...” Dan shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the events of the last 48 hours. “I can believe this is happening.”

“It’s some seriously messed up shit but it’s all real! We have to go and don’t give me any Saving Private Ryan shit by sacrificing yourself so I can get out. That’s now how the slayer thing works.! Besides,” she smirked as she watched him force himself to move. “I have no idea how to drive a boat.”

He managed a laugh as he started walking, capable of it now that he’d caught his breath. “All that slayer training and they don’t teach you how to drive a boat?”

“Vampires aren’t known for riding on yachts man,” she chided, flashing him a smile at admiration for continuing to fight.

Dan was in his seventies and what she’d been putting him through would have been hard on someone half his age. But he’d kept up and even managed to put a decent fight when things had gotten rough but the truth was, he was almost done. She had to get them to a boat and get away from Brookesville. They’d taken her phone so she wasn’t able to call for help even though she knew it would not be Giles she called first but rather Sam Winchester.

Because the last thing Brookesville needed were slayers.

 

 

 


	5. Necessary Evil

“Roll on your side Dean.”

Dean, who was sitting with his head lolled back against the Impala’s front passenger seat, snorted obliviously at Buffy’s instruction but still shifted slightly to his side, cheek pressing into the vinyl, silencing his snoring.

“Very domestic,” Sam couldn’t help tease as he sat behind the wheel of the car, his turn to drive after they’d traded places earlier at a gas station outside of St. Louis.

They’d been driving for almost seven hours now and the signposts on I-90 warned they would soon be approaching Indianapolis. Dawn was starting to peer over the treeline flanking either side of the dual highway and Sam figured, he’d hand the driving duties to Xander who was snoring along with Cas in the back seat.

They’d left Lawrence that very night after spending the day preparing to go after Faith.

While Dean readied the Impala for driving through snow, Sam mapped out the fastest route to northern Maine. Meanwhile, Buffy had taken Castiel, Willow and Xander out for supplies. Wal-Mart was still open despite it being Thanksgiving weekend so they were able to stock up on everything they needed for the formidable Maine weather. Despite being dressed for fall in Kansas, they were in sore need of winter clothes for where they going.

Besides, knowing Cas’ attachment to his trenchcoat, Dean wanted to make sure the angel had something warmer to wear. This would be Cas’ initiation to cold weather since becoming human and Dean was convinced he was going to feel it.

At least they didn’t need to stock up on weapons although Dean did give Xander a list for ammunition. Between the arsenal in the Impala and Buffy’s own slayer trunk, they were armed with all the weapons they needed. While Buffy was no fan of guns, she resigned herself to the reality that it was the weapon of choice for the Winchesters and most of the non-slayer operatives of Watcher Council, Xander included.

“Shut up you,” she nudged him playfully in the ribs, before reaching for the thermos. “Want some coffee?”

“Please, and I can’t help it, I’m glad things are going so well with you two.”

It was true, Sam made no secret of the fact he was glad Dean was trying to make it work with Buffy. His brother seemed happier because for the first time, Dean met someone who understood their lives as hunters and made no demands of him because of it.   
“Me too,” Buffy admitted, giving Dean an affectionate glance as she spoke. She poured coffee into a plastic cup for Sam before handing it to him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a relationship like this, where there’s no pressure. We’re just hanging and being together. I never thought I’d say this but it’s enough.”

She wished she’d been satisfied with that when she was with Angel. Buffy knew part of the reason he’d left for Los Angeles was his fears for her future. In the depths of her, Buffy knew she would never love as hard as she had when she was sixteen. Her dreams for a happily ever after had weighed heavily on Angel who knew he could never give it to her. Now Buffy was older, she understood why he’d gone and would always love him for being able to let him go.

“Yeah, I can relate,” Sam agreed. “But when I was with Jesse, I was always waiting for something to tear us apart. My dad always said relationships were dangerous because of what we do and I was breaking all kinds of rules with the life I was living with her. It was only a matter of time before I had to pay for that, or rather she did.”

Buffy saw the sadness descending over his eyes, not just for the loss of Jess, whom Dean told her about briefly, but the life he shared with her.

“Hey that’s not your fault,” Willow spoke up, leaning forward against the backseat, rubbing her eyes. She’d just woken up had heard enough of the conversation to offer an opinion. “Blame the demon that killed her.”

“Thanks,” Sam threw her a quick glance as he took a sip of coffee. It was finding it funny that now Buffy was in their lives, she came complete with an extended family who’d been quick to embrace them as one of their own. During the weekend, they’d bonded, trading war stories, similarly tragic relationships and realising they weren’t alone, when it came to facing apocalypses.

“I sometimes think if I hadn’t met her she’d still be alive.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Buffy cut him off before he could say anything further. “You can do all the right things and still have bad stuff happen. Blaming yourself is pointless. We’ve all been there. Sometimes, life sucks and you just have to deal.”

“Yeah,” Willow nodded. “You really need to deal because if you don’t, you’ll end like I did. When I lost Tara, I went full wiggy, dark Phoenix, Anakin Skywalker evil. I let the hurt chew me up so bad I couldn’t see straight and I hurt everyone. I almost destroyed the world...they don’t have support groups for that.”

“It was a bad time for all of us,” Buffy said sympathetically, “although I just went into a bad relationship...not try to fry the world.”

“Fry the world?” Sam gave her a look. He found it hard to imagine Willow who even as a witch, seemed way too nice for anything. In school, she’d have been the kind of girl he’d like, smart, sweet and awkward like himself.

“Oh yeah,” Willow nodded blushing. “I was so angry and in pain but I accept what happened was totally my fault. There’s probably stuff you’ve done that’s totally your fault too but taking the blame for what some evil demon did to your girlfriend shouldn’t be one of them.”

“Yep,” Buffy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Sam broke into a smile, “so this is what it’s like to have sisters huh?”

“Totally,” Willow giggled, handing Buffy a bag of gummy bears. “We make you watch girly movies, eat chocolate, listen to us bitch about boys and then tell you embarrassing stuff like you’re one of the girls.”

“Didn’t Xander just love that?” Buffy laughed and popped a red gummy bear in her mouth.

“So are you and Faith a thing?” Willow asked.

Taken completely by surprise, Sam choked on his coffee and stuttered a response. “We’re just friends, I mean we talk about stuff and send each other texts....”

“Willow!” Buffy stared at her friend who was grinning. “Relax Sam, Willow’s messing with you besides I know Faith calls you redemption buddies.”

“Redemption buddies?” Willow’s brow knotted.

“Yeah,” Sam cleared his throat and answered. “Like you said, there’s stuff that’s my fault and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s made the same kind of mistakes.”

“And you kind of remind her of Angel,” Buffy added.

“Angel? As in your old boyfriend?”

Willow stared at Sam and then nodded at Buffy in agreement. “Yeah I see it. Smart guy, kind of shy, seriously tall, with a dark side and a new age sensibility”

“Uh thanks?” Sam wasn’t sure he liked his personality being broken down that accurately. Dean would agree with the new age sensibility although his brother would call it touchy-feely stuff. Dick.  
  
“And you believe in people,” Buffy added finally. “Angel believed in Faith when none of us would. He knew he could save her if he tried hard enough and he did.”

“Redemption buddies,” Willow nodded in understanding.

“I hope she’s okay,” Sam said quietly, voicing the concern he’d held in check since they left Lawrence.

During the drive, Sam had been forced to evaluate his feelings for Faith enough to know their friendship held the possibility of more, though he rather liked where things were right now. Still, since meeting her, she’d kept him off balance, made him laugh and and yes, he did have a thing for petite, dark haired women who had a little quirk to them. Mostly, he liked Faith because she wasn’t afraid of jolting him out of his comfort zone.

“I’m sure she is,” Buffy stated. “Faith’s tough. She can handle almost anything. If she’s in trouble, she’s smart enough to lay low and wait. She knows Giles will send in the cavalry eventually.”

Sam didn’t answer but he hoped she was right.

* * *

 

They never did make it to a boat.

Instead, hours later, Faith was hiding in a half submerged dingy under the dock, losing blood and taking a fast route to hypothermia. The water beneath the pier was covered in a thin sheet of ice, easily broken if the craft was capable of moving, which it was not. At least it kept her above the water because slayer strength or not, she’d freeze to do death if she was wet.

Clutching her side, her breaths were soft and the vapor swirling around her mouth was barely visible. The gash across her side was deep and continued to bleed, pulsing weakly each time she took a breath. Something about the enemy hindered a slayer’s ability to heal so she felt every spasm of pain since its delivery. If she didn’t stop bleeding soon, Faith suspected she wasn’t going to make it.

She didn’t mind dying at all but it stung like a son of a bitch that she hadn’t been able to save Dan.

They made it to the pier, in sight of a boat Dan said could make it all the way to the other side of the Penobscot Bay so she could call her people. The air was icy and cold, with the moon reflected dully in the water. The wind was blowing snow in all directions making it hard to see and when they stepped onto the wooden dock, their pursuers climbed out from beneath it where they’d been lying in wait.

Faith had seen a lot of scary and downright bug ugly creatures but the things that soon closed in on them made her stomach turn.

Their skin was dark, slick and wet. Their bodies reminded Faith of a black rose bud and protruding from where a head and neck should be, was a long, python like proboscis culminating into a mouth with long serrated teeth. Their arms were spindly like gnarled branches with fingers tapering into sharp spikes.

Only their legs were still human.   
  
“Jesus Christ,” Dan gasped, the blood draining from his face.

“Stay close Dano!” Faith barked, seeing the terror on his face and feared he would jackrabbit the hell out of there and be run down before he even got a few feet away.

Then one of them spoke. The voice if it could be called that, made her skin crawl.

“The male will dictate the form. We will partake of his seed, whether he will or not.”

“Sorry sis, this guy’s not into kinky sex!” Faith brandished her knife, the one given to her by the Mayor, ready to attack. She stood in front of Dan, determined to be his shield against the horde waiting to take him.

They rushed Faith all at once. She fought them as hard as she could but they were dozens and she was alone. She’d managed to take down at least two of them, slicing off their thick, turgid necks until they were spraying blood but Faith hadn’t been able to keep her eye on Dan throughout the battle. When she heard him scream as their nails sank into his skin behind her, she swung around, just in time to see his pleading eyes as they dragged him into the darkness. They looked like devils taking a soul to hell.

The last thing she heard of him was a final, gurgling scream.

She didn’t cry even though a part of her wailed inside. Even though she’d never admitted it out loud, he reminded her a little of the Mayor. Despite their fucked up relationship, Faith believed Richard Wilkins genuinely cared for her. Just like Dan had and like the Mayor, he was gone too. Faith rushed at her with fury, slashing and hacking until finally one swipe slipped through her defences and almost disemboweled her.

When she saw her blood soaking her jeans, she knew she had no choice, she had to run. Not because she was afraid to die but because she had to tell the Watcher's Council what was going on here before it was too late.

She’d managed to escape them, heading into the shadows of the dockyards and laying low until they were gone but her triumph was brief. Intending to rest for a few hours so her accelerated slayer healing abilities would kick in, Faith found herself a hiding place in this boat and burrowed in. The plan was simple, she’d heal up and then trek it out of here, to a place with a phone since she had no idea where any of her stuff was now. They’d swept the town and taken anything that would enable the call for help.   
  
Except she didn’t heal.

She was still stuck on the boat, slowly freezing to death. She was still losing blood and the last examination of the wound revealed the ruined flesh around it was now turning dark, with spidery veins extending across her skin, like growing malignancy. Shivering with cold, her blood caked on her clothes, it dawned on Faith what was happening to her.

“Oh God,” she whispered in dread. “No.”

* * *

 

By the time they started down the Coast Road into Brookesville the blizzard was well and truly upon them. The tall trees on either side of the highway were covered in snow and the road was slick and treacherous with black ice, making Dean grateful he’d chosen to fit those snow tires before leaving Lawrence. At their last stop, they changed into warmer clothing to preempt the drop in temperature and upon entering the area and realised it was a wise decision. The weather in the remote seaside location was unforgiving.

If the snowfall continued this way, the roadway would be blocked, trapping them in the area.

Outside, it was dusk. They’d driven for 25 hours straight with the driving duties shared between four, allowing each driver ample time for sleep. Their only complaint was the stiffness in their joints after being cooped up for a day. Darkness settled over the town like a shroud. There were no lights in the windows, no garish neon signs and even the streetlights were inert.

“The storm’s taken out of the power,” Dean commented as he was drove into the what passed for the centre of town. Most of it seemed concentrated around the Yacht Club in the distance. “I can’t see any lights.”

“Man, I thought Sunnydale was small,” Xander shook his head in disbelief once he realised the few houses they’d sighted as they drove into town was Brookesville. “I see stuff like this in Hogwart’s country but not here.”

“Hogwart’s country?” Cas had to ask.

“England,” Willow answered, jabbing Xander in the ribs. “Be nice, you know Giles hates it when you call it that.”

“Which is exactly why I do it,” Xander smirked. “Hey he needs the excitement between all those cups of tea.”

“There’s no smoke coming from the chimneys,” Buffy stated, ending her best friends’ banter. “Even if the power is out, these people should running oil heaters and fireplaces, right?” She glanced at Dean and Sam for confirmation.

“Yep,” Sam nodded. “At the very least, we should see candles at least.”

“You believe the town has been overtaken by something?” Cas asked.

“It’s tough to tell,” Xander answered, now studying the town himself the frosted window. “The cold could be keeping everyone indoors but Buffy’s right, there should be some signs of life. I’m all for the snuggling in a blackout situation but this is extreme.”

“Cell reception is dead,” Willow stared at the lighted display of her phone and frowned at the lack of signal.

“Makes sense. If the power is out, then so are the cell towers.” Sam was also studying his phone and faced the same problem.

“I’ve seen this movie,” Xander’s voice was tense, all humour was gone from it. “It usually ends up with all of us getting slowly picked off before the plucky heroine fights the big scary monster on her lonesome.”

“Is there a reason the plucky heroine is the predetermined survivor?”

Xander, having flashbacks to conversations with Anya, answered Cas without skipping a beat. “Oh she’s the only who doesn’t have sex. In horror movies, if you have sex you die.”

“STOP!” Buffy ordered, startling everyone in the car with her sudden outburst.

Dean hit the break instinctively, bringing the Impala to a screeching halt and jostling everyone in the vehicle. “What is it?” He turned to her, slightly annoyed she hadn’t given him any warning.

“Faith’s bike!” Buffy was already climbing over Sam and reaching for the door to get out. “I think that’s Faith’s bike outside that bar!”

Sam followed her gaze and saw the silhouette of a motorcycle lying on its side, half covered in snow. Enough of it remained exposed to the elements for Sam could see the similarities to Faith’s favourite cycle.

“It is Faith’s bike,” Sam agreed after studying the vehicle a few second more. She’d taken him to the Watcher Council’s office in Cleveland on the back of the thing so he recognised it.

Now it was Sam opening the car door instead of Buffy. Climbing out, he wasted no time heading for the downed cycle.

“Sammy wait a second goddammit!” Dean called after him but Buffy was already out of the car, going after his brother.

The wind was cold and lashed at Sam’s cheeks leaving behind burns. He pulled his coat closer to his body as Buffy tried to catch up with him. She was out matched two strides to one. Sam reached the bike and dropped down to his haunches, examining it in the snow. It was partially buried but Sam saw the shattered headlights, the storage compartment on the back, emptied of its contents, along with the ripped out wires and tires.

Someone was determined Faith wasn’t riding out of here.

“Any blood?” Buffy asked, her stomach clenching for the answer. Behind her, she could hear car doors slamming shut and knew the others were coming.

Sam grabbed the handle bars and pulled the bike upright. Clumps of snow fell of it, filling up the indentation left on the ground by its absence. He brushed away snow off the chrome and steel as much as possible, taking care not to wipe away any blood that might be liquified by the melting snow.

“No,” he shook his head. “Not at all. It didn’t crash but someone definitely sabotaged it so she couldn’t use it.”

“So she couldn’t leave,” Buffy suggested.

“Looks that way,” he nodded and lifted his head when Buffy headed towards the bar.

Sam saw Dean and the others approaching and held back.

“Anything?” Dean asked.

“No,” Sam shook his head. “It doesn’t look like she was on it but someone’s definitely messed with it to keep her from leaving.”

“Where are all the people?” Xander asked, not really expecting an answer. “Three days is pretty fast to wipe out the entire town, even if it is small.”

“Also, it’s Thanksgiving weekend,” Willow added. “People like to stay at home, with their families. There should be more, not less.”

“Perhaps we should check the houses for bodies,” Cas suggested.   
“That’s a grim thought,” Xander’s expression darkened, “but I think angel boy is right. At the very least, we need to know what happened to them.”

Buffy was already at the door and Dean hastened his pace to catch up with her, taking care not to slip on the snow as he joined her at the top of the short steps. The expression on her face told Dean she was all business now. [i]The Slayer was in the house[/i] he thought silently. When she was in combat mode, he did the same, slipping into hunter mode himself.

He almost told her to let him go first but held back because it would just get him smacked. Instead, he drew out his gun, ready for anything when she pushed the doors open. The thick wooden doors were unlocked and swung inwards with little effort, making a loud, horror movie creak as it revealed the darkness inside. Nothing stirred as Buffy and Dean stepped inside, Buffy with her blade brandished while the barrel of Dean’s gun took point. The only thing greeting them was the scent of stale liquor, smoke and musty air but there was something else, beneath all that. Something both Buffy and Dean were perfectly familiar with after years of slaying and hunting.

Blood.

“Sammy get over here, we need some light!”

The others were already approaching but Dean’s bark made them hurry. As Sam reached for a flashlight in the folds his jacket, Willow stepped between Buffy and Dean.

“Let me,” she said and then exclaimed loudly, “ILLUMINET!!”   
  
The room flooded with light. Light bulbs that were dark a second earlier were now coming to life across the barroom floor.

“I could have done that once,” Castiel lamented, missing his powers more than ever.

“It’s okay man,” Xander patted him on the shoulder, “being normal takes some getting used to. “

The stench of blood both Buffy and Dean detected did not come from any dead bodies in the room. At least that was something. They came from the bloody words scrawled across the walls.

 

**MALE IS A NECESSARY EVIL.**

**USE HIM FOR YOUR PLEASURE.**

**ABUSE HIM AT YOUR LEISURE.**

 


	6. Flooded

“I don’t know about you,” Xander threw a glance at Dean, Sam and Castiel but I’m hurt.” 

The words scrawled crudely in blood across the walls of the bar, matched the splatter on across the floor and the tables. Glass fragments from shattered bottles covered the polished floorboards, along with the usual human detritus in an establishment like this. It was Sam who noticed the doors and went to investigate. While they appeared normal from the outside, on the inside, there were boards nailed across it, snapped in the middle. 

 

“Dean, they built a barricade.” 

 

“What?” Dean swung around to face Sam. Buffy did the same.

 

Sam swung the door back so they could see and revealed the several boards nailed across its inside face. “They barricaded themselves in here,” he ran his finger across the edge of the boards to where it finally splintered in half and then added, “it didn’t hold. Whatever came in, snapped through these.” 

 

“I don’t like this,” Willow said nervously. “This sounds really bad and all this blood, its human.” 

 

Buffy didn’t need to know magic to come to that conclusion. Her slayer senses told her as much. “They held up in here but it was no use, whatever it was broke through.” 

 

Dean was about to agree when he saw Castiel staring at the bloody letters on the wall. 

 

“Cas?” 

 

“Metatron, you fool,” Cas swore out loud, startling Dean at the venom in his voice. When the angel turned to him, Dean saw his expression was grave. “We need to leave, right now.” 

 

“Cas we can’t go anywhere until we find Faith,” Dean reminded although he suspected Cas was about to give them a very good reason why they should leave. The angel only wore a face like that when he was about to impart some wrath of god intelligence on them. 

 

“You don’t understand,” Cas’ expression did not waver. “I think I know what did this and if I’m right we need to get Willow and Buffy away from here now.” 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Buffy stated and strode back to him. “What’s going on? What do you know?” 

 

By now, Cas commanded everyone’s attention as they waited for an explanation. The former angel let out a resigned sigh, aware he would move none of them until he gave them reason. Perhaps then they would understand the reason for his fear. 

 

“She is here.” He declared as if that would explain everything. 

 

“She? Who’s she?” Xander asked the obvious. 

 

“She doesn’t have a name or she was never given one,” Castiel explained, walking past them until he reached Sam and proceeded to shut the door. Seeing the fear in his eyes prompted Sam to help him. When the doors were closed, Cas resumed his explanation. “She’s Adam’s wife.” 

 

“Adam as in naked in the Garden of Eden, biting the apple Adam?” Willow stuttered. It was one thing to know Castiel was once an angel but to realise he was there for the big moments, like well the begining of the world, that was jarring even to a witch. 

 

“So she’s Eve?” Buffy asked. 

 

“No, she’s not Eve.” Castiel shook his head. “Contrary to what is in the bible, Adam had three wives.” 

 

“Three wives? Well they left that important bit information out of Sunday school.” Xander retorted. 

 

“He’s right,” Sam said. “In some of the older hebrew texts, it’s stated that Adam’s first wife was Lilith.” 

 

“Lilith?” Dean’s jaw clenched hearing that name and all the memories it conjured up. . 

 

“Lilith was Adam’s first wife, created to be an equal except she refused to be subservient to Adam and eventually she left him. She walked out of the Garden and God punished her, eventually leading to her to eventually becoming a demon.” 

 

“Sam is correct,” Cas continued. “After Lilith was gone, God saw Adam’s loneliness and created a second wife. Instead of presenting Adam with a whole woman, God allowed Adam to watch the making of her When the process was complete, Adam was so horrified by the sight of blood, bone, organs, flesh and spit coming together as a person, he was so repulsed he couldn’t even look at her.“

 

“Typical,” Buffy snorted. “Girl goes through all the trouble of getting pretty and the guy gets wiggy about about the details. “What happened to her?” 

 

“She was driven from the Garden, forced to wander the wilderness alone. Eventually she encountered Lilith after Lilith became a demon. Lilith was sympathetic to her situation, having been forced out of paradise herself, because of a man. For a time, they were lovers but Lilith eventually returned to copulating with other demons so she could her army of monsters. The nameless grew jealous of Lilith’s ability to bear offspring because she had never known man’s touch. It only increased her hatred of Adam and all of his kind. She blamed him for her exile but at the same time, she needed him to bear offspring.” 

 

“That’s what it means,” Willow mused looking at Buffy. “Male is a necessary evil.” 

 

“We’re not certain how it happened but somehow Lilith gave her the ability to produce offspring without lying with man but only while she was in the form of a demon. This allowed her to travel across the world for several thousand years, creating monsters with the same thirst for procreation. Whole cities were devastated, the men slaughtered, their seed taken out of their bodies to create more of the Nameless. In the end, God sent Michael to deal with her but not to kill. God understood she’d been dealt with unfairly and chose to imprison her in heaven.” 

 

Cas paused a moment, taking a deep breath. “When Metatron emptied heaven, he must have inadvertently released her.” 

 

“And now she’s out, looking to start up her man hate again.” Xander concluded. 

 

“What about her offspring?” Buffy asked. “When Michael came to get her, did he stop her offspring?”

 

Cas flinched slightly but Dean caught it and that subtle shift was enough to make the older Winchester’s hair stand on end. 

 

“Michael couldn’t stop them. There were just too many and by now they’d covered the face of the Earth. So God stepped in.” 

 

“God stepped in?” Dean’s brow disappeared into his hairline. “How.? 

 

“He made it rain for forty day and nights.”

* * *

Faith was sure she heard a car. 

 

Weak and exhausted, she knew she was in shock or worse but the possibility of what she heard could meant someone had come. For a moment, she thought it might be Giles sending help but then felt her heart sink because if she heard them, then so would the monsters. The fear of it polarized her thoughts and spurred her into moving. She had to warn them. She had to tell the run or get out of town, whichever came first. 

 

Forcing herself to move, she uttered an uncharacteristic sob of pain at the fresh stabs of pain running through her body. Beads of sweat formed against her cold skin, a sign of her feverish state. Faith climbed out of the half submerged boat and pushed herself onto the wooden dock, panting and sobbing. She was still bleeding and when she got to her knees unsteadily, saw the dark stain smeared against the frost covered wood. Gritting her teeth, she stumbled forward, ignoring the pain, ignoring the cold and the compelling need to rest. 

 

Come on Faith, you can do it. Didn’t I tell you, you could do anything you set your mind to? 

 

The voice always sounded like the Mayor and though she knew she ought to tell it to shut up, she could. She was never able to. Sure he was a man who’d traded his soul to become a demon but no matter what had gone down, she couldn’t hate him. He’d cared for her and it was real. He’d wept real tears when he’d attacked Buffy that day in the hospital, Angel had told her. Buffy even said she’d used his feeling for Faith to destroy him in their final confrontation. 

 

He’d been the first person to see the worth in her and she could never hate him for that, even if the path they took together led to disaster. 

 

Thinking about the Mayor also made her think about Angel and this time the pain she felt was in her heart and it was as cutting as the physical wounds on her body. Nine years had done little to blunt the pain of losing her friend, who dragged her kicking and screaming out of the abyss and returned her to the light. It was just like him to do a Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid with him and his crew. She should have been there with him. 

 

He wouldn’t have wanted that, Buffy had said. And Faith knew she was right. 

 

Moving faster now because she remembered Angel wouldn’t give up, hidden reserves of strength surfaced from deep within her. Faith’s instinct for survival was tremendous and she channelled into keeping her legs moving, making her awkward stumbles forward, forceful strides ahead. She might not be able to keep the pace up but she wasn’t going to make it easy for those sons of bitches either. Droplets of blood followed her and she clutched her side, trying to staunched the bleeding with her jacket so she didn’t lead them straight to her. 

 

She didn’t know where they were but she knew they withdrew to their hiding places when they could no longer find her. With any luck, they were hibernating or something. Even so, she didn’t have much time before they realised she was on the move. Nearing the edge of the dock, she scanned the main street of the small town and saw something that immediately filled her with hope. 

 

A black impala.

* * *

“You’re kidding me! You’re talking about THE great flood. The one where Noah did his two by two thing?” Xander gawked at Castiel, unable to believe they were actually talking about one of the seminal events in the Old Testament. 

 

Cas stared at Dean and Sam, confused by Xander’s reaction and wondered if he had explained it incorrectly. “Yes, the flood that covered the Earth after God sent the rain for forty days and nights, cleansing the Earth of all the evil in the world.” 

 

“It’s not just a story?” Willow was similarly stunned. Sure they read ancient texts containing cryptozoological data about monsters and demons but the Bible never once came into the equation. While some elements of it were held to be truth, Willow who was Jewish, never considered them to be literal events.

 

“Is it me or does that sound like an extreme overreaction?” Xander stared at the others. 

 

“No,” Cas shook his head, “it’s not just a story. It was the will of God, Between the Nameless and Lilith’s monster, to say nothing of the fornicators and sodomizers that covered the earth, it was a necessary cleaning although I am sorry about the unicorns.”

 

“No one’s arguing with you there Cas,” Dean assured him. “The new guy’s still getting used to all this bible stuff.” 

 

“Yeah monsters and demons are a lot easier to believe than angels I can tell you,” Xander sighed. 

 

“Whatever,” Buffy said impatiently They could debate the theological aspects of this when they found Faith and this menace whatever it was, was dealt with. “Cas, you said Willow and I have to go why?”

 

A loud thud against the door made everyone in the room jump The men typically went for their guns while Buffy gripped her blade tighter and Willow stiffened, bracing herself in case she needed to use magic. The door shuddered with another hard knock against it, although this assault was not as sharp as the first. 

 

“Come on Sammy,” a weak voice forced its way through the wood. “I promise I won’t bite.” 

 

Sam blinked, lowering his gun immediately. “It’s Faith!” 

 

“Sammy wait!” Dean warned but Sam was already at the door, unbolting it. Cursing under his breath, Dean crossed the floor after him, in case what was on the other side of the entrance was not a friendly, his gun drawn. Of course, he couldn’t blame Sam for his reaction, if it was Buffy out there under similar circumstances, he would behave just as impulsively. 

 

While Buffy shared Dean’s reservations, the possibility of it being Faith behind the door was one she could no more ignore than Sam. She was at Dean’s heels, following Sam in case it was a trick but hopeful, it wasn’t. To her relief, Faith stumbled through the part in the door as soon as Sam swung it open. 

 

“Hey Sammy,” Faith managed to say breathlessly before her strength failed her and she tumbled forward as the fatigue finally claimed her. 

 

“Faith!” Sam caught under both arms before she hit the floor face first. His stomach clenched as he as he swept her up into his arm, watching her head loll to one side in merciful oblivion of unconsciousness. Even as he carried her into the room, brushing past Dean and Buffy as he made his way towards the nearest table, he winced seeing the bruises on her face and the blood saturating the filthy grey t-shirt beneath the jacket. 

 

“Oh my God Faith!” Buffy gasped, unnerved at the sight of Faith in such bad shape. Faith knew how to take care of herself and for something to do this to her, shook Buffy to the core. Not since the fall of Sunnydale had she seen the other slayer so grievously injured. Blood was dripping against the wooden floor as as Sam carried her towards one of the tables in the centre of the room. 

 

Xander swept everything off the table before Sam reached it, sending glasses, napkins and coasters tumbling towards the beer-stained floorboards. Despite the self-deprecating jokes he often made about their non-existent relationship, Faith would always mean something to Xander because she was his first lover. Over the years, they’d established a friendship born out of some initial awkwardness and knew she was more vulnerable than she let on. 

 

What struck Sam as he set Faith down on the table was just how light she felt. It was easy to forget in the face of all her powers that Faith was actually quite petite. Like Buffy, he suddenly realised. Right now, she looked so frail and her skin was ice cold. He could feel her shivering as she clung to him. How long had she been out there, exposed to this weather?

 

He was so accustomed to seeing her fearless, powerful and full of life. To Sam, Faith was this wild and preternatural creature who filled him with silent awe and appreciation. Everything about her radiated fierce determination to be better than the sins of her blighted past and she’d helped him do the same. When he got too deep into his head, she’d stick her hand in and yank him out, usually by the spine, and tell him to get over it. 

 

Not even Dean could do that. 

 

Seeing her like this, bruised and bleeding enraged him, made him want to go out there and wreak bloody murder on the things responsible for doing this to her, for hurting his Faith. Yeah, his Faith. Even if their relationship was a friendship at present, he knew the path they were on and maybe they’d always been on it, with moments like this driving home how much they really meant to each other. Like when she’d injected him with mohra blood to save his life after his body was ravaged by the trials. 

 

“Faith, stay with me, you’re going to be okay!” He assured her while pulling off his coat. “She’s freezing! We need to get the blankets out of the car!” 

 

Before he could drape the heavy jacket over her, Xander stayed his hand because they needed to see how bad her injuries were. Sam held back, his breathing matching the pace of his growing panic. Xander, who had tended to his share of battlefield injuries, pulled apart Faith’s ruined jacket to see the extent of the wound that was still bleeding.

 

“Jesus,” he whispered in horror at the malignant gash just beneath her ribs. It was crusted over in black blood with dark veins expanding out from the edges of broken skin. 

 

The sight of it made up Sam’s mind in an instant. “Screw this, she needs a hospital right now.” 

 

Xander raised his eyes to Buffy and nodded. “He’s right. Whatever’s happened to her, her slayer healing isn’t cutting it.” 

 

Buffy felt helpless. She so rarely needed to deal with injuries because of her remarkable healing ability that she had no idea how to help either Sam or Xander right now. One thing penetrated however, the state of Faith’s injuries, so she deferred to their assessment of the situation. “We’d have to leave this town to do it. That town before this one...what was it called Blue Hill? They’re sure to have some kind of clinic or hospital.” 

 

“If we don’t stop this bleeding first,” Xander said grimly. “She won’t make it that far.”

* * *

Once Sam shouted for the blankets, Dean and Cas hurried out of the bar, not only to grab the sleeping bag in the trunk but also the Winchester version of a first-aid kid. Dean took note of the trail of blood Faith had left behind as she made her approach to the bar. It trailed off into darkness of the town, from wherever she had been hiding out. 

 

“Dean,” Cas spoke as they headed to the Impala. “We should leave. It’s clear this town has been overtaken. If so, then we must assume the Nameless has affected all the women here and if they are, they’ll follow the scent of blood straight to us.” 

 

“We don’t know that,” Dean returned opening the trunk of the Impala to fish out what they needed. “Let’s talk to Faith first. If there’s a chance we can help these people then we ought to try.” 

Despite this, he suspected Cas was right. The angel didn’t scare easily and Dean could see genuine fear in his face. Perhaps his mortal state had given Cas a sense of self preservation. Lifting the trunk door, Dean started rummaging through the contents of the trunk. 

 

“I don’t know if that is possible,” Cas countered, his expression grave. “God...”

 

“Just because God went nuclear doesn’t mean we can’t help them.” Dean cut him off as he straightened up and handed Cas the first aid kit before bending over to grab a sleeping bag. “God didn’t try to fix them, he just wiped them out. We need to at least try before we write these poor bastards off.” 

 

““GUYS!” 

 

Willow shouted from where she was standing at the top of the steps in front of the entrance, keeping watch. The redheaded witch was staring past them into the darkness, her expression one of dismay and naked terror.. Both Dean and Cas lifted their heads simultaneously to follow her horrified gaze. It didn’t take them long to realise why. 

 

Emerging from the shadows of the town were possibly the most grotesque creatures Dean Winchester had ever seen, and he’d been to Purgatory. With the same kind of skin crawling revulsion one would get from viewing a H.R Geiger creation, what made these things worse were the still human legs attached to egg sack like bodies. 

 

However, it wasn’t just their horrific appearance turning his blood cold but how many of them there were. Cas’s warnings about the town was no longer speculation, it was reality. There were literally dozens of the monsters on the street. 

 

And they were all headed towards the bar.


	7. Barricade

“Get back here!” 

Willow’s frantic cry brought Buffy to the door in a heartbeat.

Reaching the entrance of the bar, her eyes widened at what was closing in on Dean and Cas while her blood ran cold. Like Dean, she’d seen a lot of monsters since becoming slayer but nothing prepared her for the grotesque creatures moving quickly across the icy ground, towards the bar. They were unhindered by the snowfall and their bare feet, which Buffy observed to her horror, were still human had no difficulty traversing the ice covered ground. 

“Willow, give us cover!” 

Buffy ran down the steps to help Dean and Cas who were no longer just gathering blankets or first-aid kits. From where she was, she could see Dean shoving as many weapons and ammunition he could into a duffle bag before the monstrosities reached them. Leaving was out of the question, she realised, they’d never Faith and everyone into the car before those things reached it.

Assessing the situation, Willow quashed her own fright at the creatures moving towards the car and quickly conjured a spell to give Dean and Cas a few minutes. 

“GLACIES MURUS!”

The air between the Impala suddenly began to shift and Dean saw the snow swirling about the air as if directed by some unseen force. The snowflakes did a curious dance in mid air, turning and twisting into almost beautiful patterns before holding in place and solidifying, forming a wall of ice between the Impala and the demonic horrors. The wall spanned the length of the car and the bar’s front facade, standing almost fifteen feet high. 

Son of a bitch, Dean thought, unable to help feeling a little impressed despite his ambivalence towards witches after past experience. 

“Impressive,” Cas offered, missing his angel powers more than ever. 

“I can’t hold it for long!” Willow shouted, snapping the two of them back into action. 

When casting the spell, Willow was mindful of an odd sensation running through her when she harnessed Gaea’s power. Gaea’s energy radiated from the Earth, the goddess’ place of power and it flowed freely for those who would use it to help and protect others. As a practitioner of what was called light magic, Willow tapped easily into its currents but now she felt noticeable disruption in the flow, making her work harder to draw upon its strength. 

“Cas! Get inside!” Dean ordered, having loaded up the former angel with the supplies Sam would need for Faith. 

Cas didn’t argue because the weapons Dean was collecting told him the older Winchester would be right on his heels. He started to move when Buffy reached them, giving the angel further reassurance Dean wouldn’t be left to his own devices to act recklessly. Cas gave her a nod and was about to proceed when shrieks of outrage shredded the roar of the wind as the demons were confronted with the newly erected wall. 

“Go!” Buffy’s order prompted Cas into moving. 

Dean didn’t look at Buffy when she appeared next to him, resisting the urge to bitch about her placing herself by coming after him. He knew better. After seeing her in the Razor Realm, he knew when it came down to throwing down with a demon, there was no one better. She was the _Slayer._ Kicking ass and taking down names with her bare hand was what she was made to do, just as much he was made to be a huner above all else. She could take care of herself and him too, if he let her. It was why Dean adored her. 

“I’ve got your stuff,” Dean shoved multiple boxes of ammo into the bag which also contained a collection of swords and axes.

“Come on!” she tugged his arm to get him moving just as the the wall nearest to Impala shuddered as if something had just slammed into it. “We got to go!” 

Dean didn’t argue, bringing down the door of the trunk with the hand holding the bag while simultaneously cocking the sawn shotgun with the other. As deftly as Buffy handled a stake, Dean flipped the barrel forward, ready to blast the first thing that came over that wall or _through_ it. 

Willow continued to fortify the wall with magic, forcing the creatures to go around it but it was becoming harder and harder to do. The power she channelled was not flowing as well as it ought to and a result, the seamless casting of the spell was similarly disjointed. Initially, she believed she’d brought Dean and Cas minutes but judging by how fast those screeches were moving behind the wall, those minutes were dwindling into seconds. 

One of demons leapt against the wall, its snake like neck slithering over the top until the mouth bit into the ice on the other side. It’s powerful jaw gripped the wall like a grappling hook which it used to haul the rest of its bulk over. Soon, the others were doing the same. clambering over the wall in similar fashion with incredible speed. 

Abandoning any further attempt to maintain the wall, she created a thin layer of water beneath their feet upon touching, turning the ice they were running on slick. The tactic worked and they were unable to keep from slipping and crashing to the floor in a tumble of limbs and serpentine necks that might have been funny if one found Ripley’s aliens a laugh riot. 

One of the demons scaled the wall and landed beside the Impala before launching itself onto the black roof of the car, causing the metal to groan in protest, much to Dean’s consternation. Buffy pulled him back as its long neck extended outward, the mouthful of teeth snapping at them like a spitting cobra. Dean back pedalled just enough to raise the barrel of the shotgun and fire. 

BOOM!

The blast slammed into the creature backwards, throwing it off the car, trailing blood while flesh from its ruined body splattered in all directions. It landed on the ice with a sickly squelch, its black blood creating an expanding puddle beneath it. 

“Stay off my car!” 

Buffy rolled her eyes and exasperation as he hollered. _Men._

“MOVE YOUR ASS WINCHESTER!” 

Her voice had just enough panic to make him turn to her sharply. When he followed her gaze, he understood why. The others monsters were clearing the wall and swarming. The death of one of their own had provoked them into a frenzy as the screaming and howling seemed to intensify. 

Great, Dean thought, he’d pissed them off. 

Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him hard, giving no further time to debate the situation, dragging him towards the steps. Dean didn’t protest. His one stride equivalent to two of her little ones and they both thundered up the steps as Willow cast another wave of her watery spell. Icy water cascaded down the steps like an inner city waterfall, slicking the path behind them. Considering how fast the creatures were gaining purchase, Dean guessed this would be a brief obstacle. 

“Good thinking!” He threw at Willow as they hurried towards the door. 

“It worked on Home Alone!” Willow shouted back. 

Dean fired at the creatures, giving Willow the cover she needed to break off her casting. The blast made both girls jump but it served its purpose. The demons halted for a second at the deafening noise.

But not for long. 

“Get inside the both of you!” Buffy ordered and it was a testament to how much she owned him that Dean obeyed without question. 

Once they were thought, Buffy flung the door shut while Cas and Xander, having seen enough through the entrance to know what was out there, were lifting a jukebox to block the door. 

“Wait!” Willow held out her hand and waved them off. “CONFORTA!” 

The broken planks of the barricade suddenly reformed. Splintered wood was made whole and the fissured parts were repaired. Further to that, a large wooden beam materialised out of thin air and stretched from one side or the doorway to the other, reinforcing the boards already there. The jukebox the two men were trying to move slid across the floor and slammed across the doorway, it’s back against the door. 

“That should buy us some time,” Willow exhaled loudly, feeling out of breath as if she’d run a mile. 

“That was awesome Glinda! The only witches Sam and me ever met, tried to make people puke needles. Nice to know some of you are using the Force for good. ” Dean grinned, not about to ignore how she saved all their asses out there. 

“Magic like anything else can be used badly,” Willow was grateful for the acknowledgement as she was aware of hunters’ views on witches. Then again, her experiences with Amy and not to mention her own _Dark Phoenix_ phase, reminded her how easily practitioners could abuse their power. “Mine comes from Gaea of the Earth and she doesn’t look to kindly to us witches using it for evil. Light magic comes from a good place and should only be used to protect people.”

“Well wherever it comes from, you did good.” Dean remarked. 

“We need to check the place out for any other way they can get into this building,” Buffy broke in, reminding Dean their notions about their safety was fleeting. “They broke through the barricades before but that doesn’t mean they didn’t find another way in too.” 

Almost on cue, something collided against the door so hard that the barricade of planks and beams shuddered. The impact shook the inside of the building, rattling light fixtures and causing the ornaments and picture frames adorning the wall to jump, startled. The initial burst of sound was followed by loud pounding as the creatures outside tried to force their way into the bar, just as they had done before. 

Dean’s gun was raised, along with Cas and Xander’s, now that they were armed. For a minute Buffy thought she was in some western, with Wyatt Earp and his gang facing down the bad guys, poised on the moment before the first shot at that famous gunfight. She had no liking of guns and would never warm to them but she didn’t have an army of Slayers behind her and right now the guns were an equalizer. 

The pounding was accompanied by loud shrieking and howls so furious, both became indistinguishable. The vibrations rippled through the room, ratcheting the tension in the air a thousand fold as they braced themselves for a breach. One or two pictures finally broke free of the wall, shattering against the floor, while rattling tables sent the glasses crashing. 

Then it stopped. 

No one moved, expecting some other calamity to follow but as the seconds stretched into minutes with the silence continuing with everyone’s breath held. 

“Right,” Dean finally spoke, his voice grave as he stated the obvious. “They’re looking for another way in. We do like Buffy says, we check everything, windows, vents, hell even coal chutes, any opening big enough for those ugly mothers to get through. You find anything, secure it and salt it.” Dean reached into a bag and tossed a can of the stuff at Xander who was closest. “If those things are demons, the salt will keep them out for a while.” 

Xander examined the can of generic table salt. “Salt, huh?” During all their time in Sunnydale, it had never occurred to them to use the stuff as a ward. “Wish I knew that when we had the Hellmouth open. I could have defended myself with my fries.”

Buffy saw Dean take a can for himself before she turned to Xander. 

“Xander, Cas you guys take the kitchen, see if there’s an upstairs to this place. Dean and I’ll check out the bathrooms and the cellar. The building’s old and considering how cold it gets here, there’s sure to be a coal chute or something. Willow you stick with Sam.” 

“Can do.” Willow looked at Sam who nodded at her in acknowledgement. 

“How is she?” Dean asked his brother who was still hunched over Faith. 

Faith was still unconscious on the table,looking pale and sicky. Sam had cut away the part of her t-shirt soaked in blood and cleaned the wound, exposing her belly. While the terrible veins still ran across her skin, her torso was no longer smeared in blood and the gaping wound had been sealed, thanks to the medical sealant in the first aid kit. 

“I gave her some antibiotics, sealed the wound to stop the bleeding but I don’t know what this is,” Sam gestured to the discoloration of her skin. “This infection,” he glanced at Cas, “could be a virus with mystical elements, like the Croatoan virus. The truth is, I don’t know what we’re dealing with here.” 

The helplessness in his eyes spoke volumes regarding his feelings about Faith but Dean didn’t pursue it. 

“We need Giles and the Council, they might have some kind of cure,” Buffy frowned, staring at Faith with a pained expression on her face. “Do what you can for her Sam and we’ll come back to this later.” Turning to Dean, she reiterated wordlessly they needed to check the place out before those monsters found a way to enter this bar. 

Dean walked over to Sam and handed him the shotgun. 

“Keep it close,” he instructed and then turned back to Buffy. “We’ll be back soon.” 

* * *

There was a cellar in the place but instead of a coal chute, Buffy and Dean found a furnace that ran on oil. Since it was likely they were going to be stuck in the building for awhile, at least until they figured out how to get out of town safely or put down those monsters, they needed heat. While Dean got it running, Buffy checked out the rest of the space. 

“Hey Dean,” Buffy said as she saw a small window covered with at one of the walls facing the street. Using an empty beer keg, she climbed up to reach it. 

“Yeah Counsellor?” Dean didn’t look at her as he clicked the pilot light after refilling the oil. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” 

He paused what he was doing and straightened up to see her securing the window by running a layer of salt across the sill. 

“Me too but you would have been able to handle this yourself even if I wasn’t. You used to all the time.”

“I did,” she admitted, “but it was always better when I had my friends and the people I loved around me.”

It struck her when she’d been in the bar room earlier, that the scene reminded her of being back in the library at Sunnydale, when being a slayer was new. Surrounded by books with with Giles, Willow, Xander and even Cordy joining them to help. Angel too, when he wasn’t terrorizing them as Angelus, watching her back. 

Sometimes, Buffy thought Dean was all the men she’d ever loved, combined into one. Dean understood her on the most fundamental level the way Spike had. The blond vampire was unafraid to call her out on her shit no matter how much she hit him. Like Riley, Dean could be a tactician but unlike the former Initiative Captain, Dean wasn’t intimidated by her power. She suspected their relationship worked as well as it did because Dean was grateful he didn’t have to worry about her being hurt. And like Angel, Dean loved everything she was and would fight to the death to keep her safe if she needed him to. 

“I love you Counsellor,” he smiled seeing the emotion in her eyes as the furnace came to life with a gassy belch. “We’ll get through this Counsellor,” he assured her. 

“Right,” she smiled and followed him as they headed out the cellar, finding herself believing him. 

* * *

A short time later, they congregated back into bar room, having reinforced every window and opening they could find with new barricades and salt. Willow had found Dan’s the bartender’s office which was a small room with a desk and well-worn sofa that looked like it was slept in a lot. Sam carried Faith into the room and set her down on the soft cushions before draping the sleeping bag over her small frame. Dean’s lighting of the furnace had made the place warmer, which was exactly what Faith needed after being exposed to the elements for God only knows how long. 

“Okay,” Buffy said looking at Cas. “We need answers. You told us some of the story, now we need to hear the rest.” 

Cas nodded and sat down at one of the empty chairs at the table closest to the bar. “I’ll tell you what I know. It was Michael who dealt with her and she was forgotten once she was locked up in heaven.”

“I feel kind of sorry for her,” Willow admitted from opposite Cas at the table. “It’s not her fault really, she just got treated really badly.”

“Hey I feel the same,” Xander remarked as Dean poured him a shot of whiskey from behind the bar. “But if you cause enough ruckus to bring down the wrath of God, that’s when my sympathy starts to wears thin.” 

“Amen to that,” Dean agreed. “Go on Cas. What are we dealing with here?” 

“The women of this town.” 

Those creatures wearing human legs said as much but hearing it put so bluntly was jarring. It was impossible to connect those things outside with anything resembling a human. The horror of it was too much even for Buffy who’d seen quite a number of demons and monsters through her lifetime to stomach easily. 

“Jesus,” Sam whispered, glancing at the office door where Faith was right now. Was she infected? Was that what was in store for her? Sam refused to believe that. There had to be a way to save her. “So the Nameless infects them and turns them into monsters?”

“No,” Cas shook his head. “They become like that after intercourse.” 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “After what?” 

“Remember what I said earlier,” Cas reminded. “Lilith gave her the ability to have children without men but only in the form of a demon. She passes the infection, whatever you want to call it, onto other women. Once infected, they take the seed of a man, by any means possible. Intercourse is the most direct way but if the man is unwilling she can extract it directly from the source.” 

All three men felt their balls shrivel in unison.

“I think my ick factor has went through the roof,” Willow made a face, grossed out even when she didn’t own a pair herself. 

“They give birth in demon form.” 

Buffy was horrified. The idea of a small baby near those teeth, chilled her to the bone. “But how they can care for a baby in that shape?” Her voice betrayed her shock. “It’s all teeth and claws, the diaper changing alone would be a nightmare.” 

The thought of breastfeeding almost discombobulated her brain. 

“They won’t produce a baby. They will produce a sexually mature adolescent. The male dictates the form so the newborn emerges human. That part of God’s law cannot be changed.”

“And the men?” Xander was almost afraid to ask. 

“Use him for your pleasure,” Sam gestured to the bloody words scrawled on the walls. “Abuse him at your leisure.”

“This is about revenge,” Buffy sighed. “She wants to make all men pay for casting her out of the garden but she needs them for the one thing she can’t get anywhere else, children. Making it painful is just a bonus. They’re not coming in here to kill us,” she looked at Dean. “They’re coming in here take you guys alive.” 

Willow let out a sigh, “I guess we better hide the menfolk.”


	8. Faith's Tale

Faith was having a slayer dream.

As she found herself knee deep in surreal imagery and wishy-washy subtext (not to mention that weird cheese guy), Faith wished she would wake up. She didn’t do the dream thing. That was Buffy’s deal. Convinced the mystique behind them served no purpose other than messing up a slayer’s wiring, Faith never put much stock in her nocturnal imaginings. She was content to deal with the subconscious junk already crowding her head, where memories of the Mayor and Angel played such a prominent part.

Instead, she found herself in the same booth occupied by Amy and her boyfriend on Thanksgiving night. The space in the middle of the formica table was occupied by shot glasses, the clear spirit inside them still, while a bottle towered over them like. In the background, music was playing wearily from an old juke box and Dan was behind the counter, wiping a glass with the same checked dishtowel he used when she first exchanged words with him. Catching her gaze, he gave her a nod of acknowledgement and faint smile beneath his oversized moustache.

“So are you ready?”

Turning her head so fast, she might have snapped the cords in her neck, Faith became aware of the arm draped around her shoulders.

“Sam?”

He was staring her down with that intense gaze of his, the one that reminded her so much of Angel when he was all introspective and broody. Even though Faith knew he was a figment of a dream, she felt her skin warm at his touch. While she’d never admit it out loud, Sam was one of the highlights of her life even though the sum of their relationship added up to a bunch of texts and phone calls. Faith never considered herself one of those girls who liked nice boys, but she liked Sam Winchester. A lot.

“I thought you’d never call.” His voice was quiet, almost intimate. His fingers traced invisible lines against her bicep, sending jolts of electricity through her skin to the warm core of her. Not since their stolen kiss shortly after she’d met him, had they been this physical with each other.

“You know me Sammy, I like to leave ‘em jonesing for me.” Her ruby red lips broke into a smile.

Without warning, he pressed his mouth to her in a deep, lusty kiss. Faith reacted immediately. The taste of him was intoxicating and the tidal wave of attraction she’d held back out of fear for spoiling their friendship, was unleashed. She opened her mouth to accept his probing tongue as she ran her fingers through his long, satisfying hair. His large hands gripped her hips and dragged her into his lap. Faith straddled him, happy to oblige. Pelvis to pelvis, she shuddered at the hardness gently caressing the inner seam of her pants.

God she wanted him. How much surprised her. It wasn’t just because he was hot as hell but because he was kind and he looked at her as someone worth knowing. To him, she was something glorious and beautiful, not the kind of girl you banged in the alley of a bar, before you went home to your real girlfriend. Her eyes locked on his, she saw his adoration. It almost made her cry.

Sitting back, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were in a bar full of people, Faith ripped open his shirt, sending buttons scattering in all directions. Her hands rested on his bare chest, admiring the beauty of him as he started to roll up her tank top.

 _Use him for your pleasure_.

The words exploded in her brain like a clap of thunder. Faith blinked and noted her fingers were tracing a line down his stomach. They seemed wrong somehow. Her nails were longer. As a rule, slayers rarely kept long nails because fighting vamps usually led to them getting chipped or broken. But now her nails were long and vibrantly red. Not just long, Faith realised, but sharpened to points.

Sam seemed unaware of all this and continued to tug at her t-shirt, playing the part of mindless sex object in her dreams. In fact, now that Faith thought about it, she was sure Sam would have been a little self-conscious about the idea of screwing in front of everyone but then the words exploded in her head again.

_Abuse him at your leisure._

This time the the thunderclap was followed by screaming. It wasn’t Sam though, it was the others in the bar, the others who were gaping at her in horror. Sam was still in front of her but he was no longer caressing her flesh. Instead, he was clutching his throat, making gurgling sounds to correspond with the blood spilling over his fingers. His throat was sliced open and her sharp, pointed fingernails were wet with blood.

* * *

  
“Sam!”

Faith sat up shouting his name and was immediately silenced by an assault of sharp pain radiating from her side. Reaching for the offending area, she was mildly surprised to find her fingers did not make contact with torn, wet flesh but was instead greeted with the coarse fabric of surgical bandage. Like all slayers, she was blessed with a heightened state of awareness and was quick to survey her surroundings to assess her situation.

Surveying the room, she recognised Dan’s office and felt another pang of anguish at her inability to save the man who’d been ripped about by those bitch monsters. The return of those ugly memories coincided with the door to the small office flinging open and Sam Winchester entering the room. At the sight of him, she also remembered stumbling into the bar in a haze of pain and exhaustion.

The relief flooding in his eyes when they made eye contact caused a warm bloom of emotion within her chest.

“Faith,” Sam was at her side, dropping to his knee next to the sofa. “You okay? I heard you...”

“Bad dreams,” Faith shrugged it off, trying not to be amused by how Sir Galahad he was being right now, on his one knee. She didn’t need to tell him she was dreaming about him or rather murdering him. “What’s the sitch?”

“The sitch?” His eyes widened. “The sitch is you’re in bad shape and you need to rest.”

“Don’t handle me with kid gloves Sammy,” she eased back into a lying position nevertheless. “You know I like it rough. Give it to me straight, what’s going on?”

“Okay,” Sam exhaled loudly, getting to his feet so he could retrieve a chair to sit next to her. “Giles called Buffy and said you were AWOL. Me and Dean were at her place and with the storm the way it was, the only way to get here fast was to drive.”

“Drive?” Even in her weakened state, her shock was evident. “You guys drove all the way here from Kansas?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, not about to admit he would have done it on his own if it had come down to it. “Me, Dean, Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cas.”

Faith was touched. She wasn’t a Scooby and yet Buffy and her crew had come after her. Sure, they’d developed a kind of friendship since the fall of Sunnydale but she never thought she rated highly enough to come riding into town like some High Noon deal. Of course that was her problem right there, Faith rarely thought she deserved such consideration.

“The Scoobies ride again,” she tried to sound flippant but couldn’t quite manage it. “I think I’m going to get all misty-eyed.”

“Well we care,” Sam admitted hesitantly, hiding just how much. He held her gaze for a moment and saw her brown eyes softening with realisation until he broke away, embarrassed at the revelation.

Before Sam could pull back, Faith reached for his hand.

“I know.”

“You do?”

Faith nodded and decided to leave it at that. Right now was not the time to discuss any significant shifts in their relationship and Faith wasn’t convinced complicating things between was the best idea. Being Redemption Buddies had worked for them thus far and Faith would rather keep things status quo than lose it because they decided to get physical.

“I got to get up,” she started to lift herself off the sofa, grimacing as the pain ran through her body. She still felt weak and helpless but the dire state of their situation was insinuating itself on her thoughts again, compelling her to move.

“No Faith,” Sam stopped her from getting up with a gentle hand. “You’re no good to us unless you get some of your strength back and you’re nowhere there yet. I’ll get the others and you can tell us what’s happened to this town.”

Faith wanted to protest but even she recognised the reality of the situation. She had barely made it to the bar and it had taken everything she had not to collapse in the middle of the street.

“Okay,” she eased back into the sofa, conceding defeat, hating to be weak almost as much as hating her compliance because it was Sam who asked. When the hell had he gotten so deep under her skin?

* * *

  
A short time later, at Sam’s invitation, the others had joined them in the room. Heat, rest and treated wounds helped Faith recover a little better but there was no denying the injury she’d sustained was sapping much of her slayer strength. Alarmingly, the black tendrils across her flesh still remained. But she was the only person left alive who could tell them what had happened in Brookesville and so Faith needed to hold court for a bit longer. .

She eyed Cas, having never met the man before this even though Sam had told her about the angel. She stared at him for a moment, taking in the ordinariness of him while trying to wrap her head around the concept that there was a heaven and a heavenly host after all.

Also, for some reason, he smelled like cookies.

“It started,” Faith sat up as best she could, still aching, “on Thanksgiving night. I was in this bar, throwing back a few, working my way to a real nice drunk when I catch this asshole wailing on his girl. So I go over there and lay down a tiny little beat down so he’d behave. He got pissy and breaks up with her but get this,” she glanced at Buffy and Willow as if they alone would understand her astonishment. “She runs after him.”

“Ugh,” Willow made a face. “This is why I go without the men. So much easier.”

“Hey! We’re not all macho, manly Neanderthals, some of us are sensitive and new agey.” Xander felt obligated to say on behalf of his gender.

Dean snorted. “So what’s this Lifetime movie got to do with it?”

Buffy jabbed him in the ribs on reflex and Dean gave her a ‘what did I do?’ look.

“Just keep your pants on Deano,” Faith resumed her narrative unfazed the older Winchester’s impatience. For some reason Cas seemed to do a doubletake at that and Faith made a mental note to ask Sam why later.

“I go back to drinking and apparently pass out at some point. Dan the bartender dumps me in here to sleep it off but when I wake up in the morning, he’s got a visit from the local sheriff. Seems like someone killed at least a dozen men during the night, starting with the asshole I punched out. They thought it was the girl...her name was Amy, that did it.”

“It was the Nameless,” Cas declared, looking at the others.

“The who?” Faith blinked.

“We’ll fill you in later,” Buffy signalled Cas to hold the explanations for later before turning back to Faith, “keep going.”

“Okay, so I tried to check out the body, mostly because I was thinking no way that sweet little miss could do that many guys in one night, well not in the fun starfish gangbang kind of way, so I sneak into what passes for a morgue around here. I’m telling you it wasn’t pretty.”

“Even worse than the starfish gangbang image you just put in my head?” Buffy snarked.

Faith winked at her and noticed Dean and Xander trying hard to stifle their sniggering, while Willow and Sam looked aghast and Cas, just plain confused.

“She didn’t just kill him, she ripped him up. I mean tore the junk right off him. I almost thought it was a werewolf kill except she didn’t go for the jugular. Uh uh, she missed all the major stuff. She took his tongue, ears and I think she did it with her teeth.”

“Oh god....” Willow’s face was a mask of horror.

“She wanted him to suffer,” Buffy stated. “Use him for your pleasure.”

“Abuse him at your leisure,” Faith nodded. “You saw the graffiti huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Sam answered. “Tough to miss.”

“There was something else too,” Faith’s expression furrowed in confusion. “There were these holes in all their guts, just above the junk area you know?” She gestured to space between her hips. “Like someone shoved fingers into their bellies, trying to rip something out.”

“That is how they extract what they need to bear their offspring,” Cas interrupted. “If they can’t copulate, that’s how they take what they want.”

“You know what this thing is?” Faith demanded.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “it straight up biblical, but keep going.”

Faith frowned wanting to no more but understood the need to continue.

“Okay, by the time we figured out that there was more than just one killer, people were disappearing all over the place. By the next night, these monsters started appearing and snatching the men who were left. The I’m telling you B, I ain’t never seen anything like this and you and me, we’ve seen some scary shit.”

Buffy couldn’t argue with her there. They’d gotten a taste of the creatures earlier and that was enough to fuel her nightmares for a good while.

“I was trying to find a nest or something when I came across one of them, the preacher’s wife no less. She’d just finished doing him, right there in the middle of the church floor. I mean that’s some serious sacrilege there. He looked like he was into it but then after the fireworks, she starts ripping into him. I get there in time to save him but she gets away. I managed to track her to the cellar and she’s in there, in a frigging cocoon!”

“A cocoon? As in praying mantis?” Cocoons and anything bug related made Xander Harris shudder.

“I don’t know, cocoon as in caterpillar.” Faith shrugged. “I should have burn the thing to the ground but there was still a person in there you know? At least that’s what I thought. I mean I knew she wasn’t going to come out the way she went in but I wasn’t ready to write her off. yet”

It was a testament to Faith’s redemption she’d held back from the most obvious course of action. Years ago, it wouldn’t even be a consideration she’s put down the threat before it had a chance to emerge. Now it was second nature. If anything redeemed Faith in Buffy’s eyes, it was her hesitation to save the victims before making the kill.

“I understand,” Buffy said giving her a little smile of understanding. “Then what?”

“I thought keeping her locked up in the basement would be enough until we figured things out but wasn’t. She turned into one of those monsters, whatever the hell they are and practically smashed her way out of it. I had to put her down then, it was her or me. By now, the men were either taken or the women turned. Me and the few people who were left came back to the bar, barricaded ourselves in. They got to my bike and took the SAT phone so I couldn’t call for help and with the phone lines down and the storm rolling in, we were trapped..”

“I’m guessing the barricade didn’t hold,” Dean stated.

“No,” Faith shook her head, thinking of the handful of people along with Dan, whom she tried to save. Vicky, the waitress, Jonas and Eddie who were teenagers, Harriet the dispatcher at the police station. All gone. “I managed to get out with Dan and we headed towards the docks. Dan figured we could take one of the boats, get away on the water. We didn’t make it and I got this.” She gestured to the wound on her body. The implications of that were clear.

“If they don’t kill you, they try to infect you. I’m not sure how that’s done yet but I think I’m not infected that badly, I mean I’m still me.”

“You have not copulated yet.”

“Man, you got a way with words.” Faith stared at Cas. “I mean it’s been a slow week and the fleet hasn’t come in but that’s no reason to call a girl out.”

“I don’t understand,” Cas returned her gaze with a blank look. “You must copulate for the change to take place. It’s man seed they need.”

“Okay, okay!” Willow waved her hands “Enough talk about... you know?” She blushed and then regarded Faith. “So she’s safe if she doesn’t?”

“For now yes,” Cas glanced at Faith. “But the urge to mate will become stronger.”

Faith turned cold, remembering the dream she had before waking up, the one that had made her cry out for Sam, especially after what she’d done to him. It was already starting to work its evil mojo on her.

Before she could say anything, the quiet was broken by a sudden burst of sound coming from outside the room. Something was pounding on the main door to the bar, demanding entry.

The Nameless were back.


	9. Inferno

The barricade shuddered violently like the passenger on turbulent flight. 

The door, the wooden posts, even the jukebox braced in front of it, jerked with each assault from the outside. The remaining pictures on the wall and one neon Budweiser signed crashed loudly against the debris covered floor. Furniture rattled and light fixtures swung haphazardly above them. Buffy and Dean were the first ones out of the office and they stood side by side, like two warriors at the gates, waiting for the inevitable breach. 

Behind them, Xander and Castiel were listening for any dull sounds that might give away intruders on the roof. The creatures had found their way in here before when met with a barricade. There was no reason to assume it would be any different. Xander pulled out the gun he’d tucked into his jeans and gestured at Castiel to follow. They needed to ensure the things weren’t trying to get in through the backdoor, salt seal or not. 

“We’re going to check the kitchen!” Xander hollered before hurrying off. Cas following close behind. 

“Okay, if they get through the salt, they’ll rush the door together. Hopefully they’ll bottleneck.”

“Right,” Dean agreed with Buffy’s assessment, his jaw taut as he raised the shotgun with one hand and patted the pocket of his coat with another, jangling the shotgun shells he’d stash there for certainty. “We’ll pick off as many of them as we can.” 

“Do you think the salt will work?” Willow asked. She’d never heard of such protection though she wished she’d known about it when they were in Sunnydale. How many non-corporeal demons and ghosts had they faced without any real means of protection? The only thing they’d been able to protect themselves from were vampires. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Dean shrugged as the pounding grew more violent. By now the jukebox had slid a few inches away from where it had been. “SAM, get out here!”

Sam emerged from the office a few seconds later, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I had to convince Faith to stay put instead of rushing out here.” 

“Well don’t do too good a job of it!” Dean spoke over the noise. ‘If they break through, we’re going to have to make a run for it.”

Sam nodded and grabbed his own weapon, left on the table during his ministration of Faith’s injuries. 

A blast of gunfire followed by a loud shriek of pain was soon followed by more shots and more agonised screams, this time coming from behind him. 

“Xander and Cas!” Willow said dismayed. 

Sam met Dean’s gaze. “I’m on it! You three stay here and watch that door.” 

Sam didn’t wait for Dean’s approval nor did he get one as he hurried into the rear door emptying into the small kitchen where Dan’s patrons had their orders of buffalo wings and fries filled. Cas and Xander were standing at the rear kitchen door, now swung wide open, allowing wind and snow to blow into the room. The cold made Sam shudder but not as much as seeing what lay trapped at the doorway.

At least four of the creatures were bottlenecked at the door. One was lying in a bloody heap, a few feet beyond the doorway where Xander and Cas’ gunfire had sent it. Those human legs spreadeagled in a ghastly fashion. The other three were hissing and screeching in outrage and fury, trapped at the doorway, the invisible barrier of salt preventing them from entering any further. The two men were not wasting the opportunity and were firing into the thickest part of the triad, their bullets making sending slurpy splatters of blood in all directions. 

Sam added his fire to the killing zone. A shotgun blast severed one of those long, python-like necks, causing the appendage to land on the ground, dangerously close to the salt line, its jaws snapping once before dying. The rest of it collapsed, the human legs going limp. Cas and Xander finished off one more before the last member of the triad opted to turn tail and run, it departure punctuated by jerks as its rump caught the pellets of shotgun blast.

“Thanks,” Xander let out a sigh of relief. “I am never going to hear another bad thing said about salt ever again. I’ll take the heart attack.” 

Cas studied the door. “They’ll be back. This is a temporary measure.”

“I know,” Sam looked about the kitchen and saw a chest freezer at the other side of the room. The door was thrashed and without it, the weather blowing in could inadvertently break the seal of salt. “We’ve got to get that door shut.” 

“Oh it’s salvageable, give some tools...” Xander started to say and then stopped. “Sorry, flashback to my sane profession.” 

“I’ll keep watch,” Cas offered, raising his gun as Xander and Sam pushed the freezer into place, reinforcing the broken door. Upon pushing the heavy appliance against the wood, Cas added more salt to their seal, ensuring that even if the Nameless breached the door, they’ll be held back by the salt again. 

“We better check the rest of the place.” Sam said starting to retreat out of the kitchen.

“Go,” Xander waved him on. “We’ll hold the fort down here in case they come back.” 

“Oh they will be back,” Cas retorted grimly. “They won’t stop until they kill us all.” 

Xander stared at him, “you know for angel, you’re _not_ all that inspiring.”

* * *

Faith never knew staying put could be so damn hard. 

She wanted to get on her feet without hearing her body scream in protest but knew to do so was stupid. Sam had patched her up well enough for her slayer healing to help things along but she was nowhere in shape to take on those monster bitches again. Hearing the noise of gunfire and the things trying to break in was a different kind of torture. Faith didn’t do helpless and it was even worse knowing Sam and Dean Winchester, two civvies in her opinion, were out there doing her job. 

_Queen B will take care of them_ , she consoled herself as she closed her eyes and tried to shut out the noises of the assault taking place beyond the office. Banishing it as best she could, she tried to lose herself in the darkness overcoming her vision but instead, heard a new sound. One much so close, she could feel its breath against her neck, until the hairs stood up on end. 

_Use him for your pleasure._

_Abuse him at your leisure._

It was a sweet voice, almost soothing. It caressed her skin, filled her aching body with a wholly new sensation, desire. She felt it all the way down to her toes. She thought of Sam. Kind, sweet and smoking hot Sam Winchester who _wanted_ her. Faith could see it in his eyes. He wanted to her like they all did, wanted her to do things to him. She could own him with her flesh and realised he kept her at arm’s length because he knew it too. 

“NO!” Faith shouted. 

The cry brought Willow in from the next room in a second. The main doors to the bar were still under siege and Willow’s appearance allowed Buffy and Dean to hold position guarding it. Willow was the first one to accept her back into the fold after she’d broken out of prison and told of the sitch with the First Evil in Sunnydale. Since then, they’d become close friends and Faith appreciated how Willow could be both things to her and Buffy. It was such a far cry from the hostility Willow had felt towards the slayer when they’d first met. 

“Faith, are you okay?” She dropped next to the sofa, her face etched in concern. 

“Willow, I can hear her calling me,” Faith revealed without hesitation. “She’s in my head. She’s getting stronger.” 

“Who?” Willow asked but suspected she had a better idea than Faith did, after Cas’ story. 

“Her,” Faith said, knowing the voice by no other name. “She’s in my head and she keeps telling me to hurt him. To hurt Sam.” 

Of course it would be Sam. Of the men here, it was with whom Faith had the closest connection, Xander’s musings about their one night stand notwithstanding. Willow had heard enough in their telephone conversations to know Faith had real feelings for Sam Winchester, not unlike those she shared with Robin Wood after Sunnydale’s fall. The Winchesters who lived lives as nomadic as slayers, understood the difficulties of maintaining a relationship and had no expectations that neither Buffy or Faith could not meet. As a result, the symbiosis of hunters and slayers was ideal. 

“You’re not going to do that,” Willow said firmly. “Look, you fought off a lot of bad stuff to be here, you can fight this.” 

“I’m not going to hurt him Willow,” Faith said determinedly but her eyes showed her fear at faltering. How she’d fallen to the Mayor’s promises were still vivid in her mind and she knew if she fell to that kind of darkness this time, there would be no redemption, not ever. “I can’t hurt him. You have to take me out before that happens.” 

Willow stared at her in dismay. “Faith, I don’t know if I can do that.” 

“Please!” she begged. “You know what I’m capable of. I can feel it twisting me in the guts. She’s inside me, working her bitch mojo on me. I won’t become one of those monsters by hurting Sam.” 

Her voice was ragged and desperate which frightened Willow even more. Willow had never heard Faith so close to complete collapse. No matter what the last decade had thrown at them, Faith always handled it with her usual flippancy. _Five by five_ , she’d say. Angel once told Willow of how Faith had completely broke down in front of him, the night she’d begged him to kill her and Willow never wanted to see Faith in that state again. 

Like she might be now. 

“Faith,” Willow took her by the shoulders. “We’re not going to let it get that far. We’re going to figure out how to stop this thing. It’s what we do. You won’t turn into one of those monsters, I promise.”

Yet, even as Willow made the vow, she prayed she wouldn’t have to break it.

* * *

Buffy and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder, bracing the jukebox with their strength so it would hold the barricade in place. Thanks to Buffy’s slayer strength, they kept the Nameless from entering the bar room but the creatures were not giving up. Thwarted by their attempt to breach the kitchen, it seemed the creatures were putting all their effort into breaking through the front doors like they had before. When Buffy and Dean heard the decided whack of an axe and wood ripping soon after, both exchanged glances with the realisation the barricade, even with Willow’s powers was not going to hold indefinitely. 

The Nameless were getting smarter. 

“Dean...” Buffy looked at him, straining against the wood. 

“I know!” He grunted back. “We can’t stay here. We’ve gotta move.”

As he said that, a loud crack was heard and he raised his head to the edge of an axe pulling away a large piece of wood from the door. Large enough for one of those python necks and claw like hands slipping through the opening. 

“Buffy stay put!” He shouted as he retreated and grabbed the gun next to him on the floor. She could hold the barricade with her strength far better than his regular human self could manage. If it was one thing he’d learned since meeting Buffy, it was too put aside his masculine superiority because his girlfriend could kick his ass from here to kingdom come if she caught one whiff of sexism. 

It was kind of hot actually.

“Hey!” She grumbled, wanting to know why she was taking his orders. Oh right, because he was a natural leader with great instincts and a tactical mind and she’d been out of the game for too long to make those difficult calls with the same certainty as she used to. And because she kind of adored him too. 

Dean took aim at the human-demon hybrid trying not to remember that four days ago, this had been a woman. Someone’s girlfriend, sister, mother or more. Pulling the trigger on the shotgun that was mercifully not loaded with rock salt this time, he blasted the thing full into the mouth. The neck or head or whatever it was exploded, splattering meat in all directions, the rest of the neck pulling back as if scalded, the arm flailing about in writing agony as it retreated through the hole. 

Another creature attempt to slip through the same way after its injured or dying sister had withdrawn and Dean fired again, this time aiming through the hole so the blast caught the invader in the torso and forced it back with a piercing shriek. The door thumped a few more times but as the ringing from the shots diminished in his ears, Dean realised the assault against the barricade was also slowing down. 

Dean lowered the barrel of the gun and saw Buffy relaxing a bit as the jukebox was no longer shaking as hard. In fact, after a few seconds, the Nameless retreated entirely, leaving only the hole allowing in the cold with a sharp, crisp draft and flakes of snow against the wooden arch of the jukebox. The wind whistled through the opening, carrying the sounds of the Nameless’ angry screech as they disappeared into the night, or marshalled their numbers for another attack. 

“They’ll be back,” Dean said grimly. 

Buffy nodded. “We should try for the car. I think we need to get out of here and come back with a lot more help than we have. If the whole town is taken...”

“I say we take off and nuke the entire site from orbit,” Dean remarked and got swatted for his trouble. “Ouch!”

“Don’t joke about stuff like that,” Buffy said angrily. “Those were women! I hate that we have to do this! I hate that we can’t save them.” She saw the blood smeared across the doorway and glanced at the door to the office where Faith was currently occupying. “I hate we have to kill a whole lot of them to get to the car because they’re not just going to let us walk out of here!” 

“Hey, hey,” he caught her by the shoulders and said gently. “I’m a dick okay? I hear you. I was thinking the same thing when I was shooting at them. I wish we could save them too. Killing innocent people isn’t what we do, none of us. But we may have to start thinking these are like vamps. Whatever human in them is gone, the bitch who did this to them made sure of it.” 

Buffy nodded and managed a smile. “You are a jerk but I know it’s not any easier for you.” 

“I’m your jerk,” Dean conceded before leaning forward to kissed her lightly on the lips, telling her in that one gesture no further words were needed to assuage any slight she perceived he might have about her outburst. 

“Really?” Sam appeared in the room and eyed them critically. “Making out at a time like this?” His tone was more amused than annoyed. 

“Shut up bitch.” Dean pulled away from Buffy. “The rest of the place secured?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “The salt seems to be holding but I won’t bet on it for long.” 

“They’re gone,” Buffy said, “but I’m going to guess they’re trying to figure another way to come at us. We’ve gotta think about getting out of here.” 

“I second that,” Willow piped up coming out of the office. “The further away from here we get Faith the better.” 

“Why?” Sam demanded, stiffening in concern. “Is she okay?” She’d been better when he left her. Had something happened? The alarm on his face was naked. 

“She’s fine but I think the wound she got from one of them has infected her,” Willow said grimly. “Faith says she can hear _her_.” 

“Her?” Buffy’s eyes widened. “As in the Queen Nameless herself?”

“Uh huh,” Willow nodded. “I think the only reason she isn’t one of those things yet is because she’s got slayer strength to fight it with and...” Willow glanced at Sam and her cheeks reddened. 

“What?” Sam felt somewhat self-conscious all of a sudden. 

“And the fact she hasn’t had sex yet.”

Sam’s face became as red as Willow’s. 

“So that’s easy enough to do deal with,” Buffy said ignoring the duo’s discomfiture to get to the heart of the matter. “Sam, no alone time with Faith. I trust you but she’s a slayer with super strength who’ll probably be super horny. She’ll overpower you to get what she wants.”

Sam had no idea how to even respond to that when Dean spoke, unable to help himself. “That’s easier said than done. Sam’s got a weak spot for demony chicks. Remember Ruby?” 

“HEY!” Sam sputtered. “That was one time!”

“...over four months.” 

“Enough!” Buffy snapped, giving Dean a reproachful look. “Dean stop snaking Sam!” She sounded very much like the counsellor she was, accustomed to dealing with unruly teenagers. “We’re leaving. We’re going to get Faith as far away from here as possible and maybe with Cas’ help, Giles can figure out some way to help her.” 

Grateful for Buffy’s words, Sam threw his brother a glare. “Dick.” 

To which Dean promptly returned, “bitch.” 

Both Buffy and Willow rolled their eyes in unison, thinking the same thing. 

_Dorks._

Something flew through the opening in the door that wasn’t one of the Nameless and ended up against the jukebox, shattering like glass. Buffy and Dean had been right about the Nameless getting smarter. Instead of trying to force their way in, the creatures were drawing on what remained of their humanity for a change in tactics. 

The liquor bottle broke on the top of the jukebox, the flaming rag jutting from its still intact mouth, ignited the spirit splattered across the glass and wood. The fire broke out with a loud swoosh, finding plenty of debris and splinters to feeds it ferocity. Across the room, through small windows too narrow for the creatures to fit, more flaming projectiles shattered the glass, landing on the floor and across booths, spreading alcohol fueled fire. 

“EXTINCTUS!” Willow shouted as she put out the flames as Buffy, Dean and Sam scrambled to find something to put them out. With a wave of her hand, the flames died out but similar crashes were heard, this time overhead and from the rear of the kitchen, where Xander and Cas were. No one needed to see the flames to know what the Nameless were trying to do. 

If they didn’t leave the building on their own, the Nameless were going to burn them out.


	10. Instincts

Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay in this story gang. I’ve had some RL issues to deal with this last six months. Nevertheless, this story is back on track and I hope to finish it soon. 

* * *

Coinciding with the rear door shuddering was the sharp, crisp sound of breaking glass. 

The bottle flew through the newly created opening in the window to shatter spectacularly on the tile floor of the kitchen. It exploded on impact, spreading out the flames kept alive by a burning rag and alcohol. Already braced for trouble when the second assault on the bar began, both Cas and Xander had been so focussed on the imminent invasion through the door, they hadn’t considered the barrage of Molotov cocktails would also be fired upon them in the kitchen. 

“Get the extinguisher! I’ll watch the door!” Xander yelled at Cas as he aimed his gun at the barricaded kitchen door, prepared to shoot the first thing that attempted to come through. After the Nameless’ initial attack, they’d fortified the rear entrance, sliding in front of it and old chest refrigerator that had seen better days. Now as the barricade came under attack, the dented, almost grey appliance was slowly inching away from its sentry post in front of the door. 

Castiel didn’t waste time, suspecting this was a losing battle. The Nameless would continue her assaults until she broke through and they could not hold out indefinitely, even with the help of Willow’s magic. He searched the kitchen for the telltale gleam of red metal and found the extinguisher a second later, mounted against the wall near the stove. Crossing over to it in three quick strides, Cas snatched it off the wall and ran back to the fire which had now enveloped the leg of cabinet and was quickly seeking to consume the whole bench. 

White froth exploded from the nozzle, the hiss of which was eclipsed by the relentless pounding against the door. Cas looked up to see Xander abandoning his shooting stance and was instead trying to keep the refrigerator from moving any further. The salt barrier was being eroded by the object’s movement and once that seal was broken, there would be nothing to stop the Nameless from entering the place. 

_Castiel,_ he suddenly heard a voice in his head. Cas who was in the middle of dousing the fire with the extinguisher, froze in response. 

_Castiel, I can feel you. Your mortal shell reeks of angelic filth._

“Cas what are you doing?” Xander demanded when he saw the former angel lapse into some kind of trance, the spray from the extinguisher swirling around him. 

Cas didn’t answer. 

_Surrender yourselves and your end will be pleasant. You and your friends, will go to the afterlife in ecstasy. Continue to fight us and I promise you excruciating agony. We will skin you alive at our leisure._

“No,” Cas replied, unaware he’d spoke out loud. “If you want us, you will have to come get us. No more women will be tainted by your evil.”

_So be it then. I will keep you for myself. You will pray for me to kill you before the end and you know what Cas? I’ll say no._

******

“Cas what the hell?” Xander asked when Castiel finally blinked and recognition at his name being called flooded into his head. 

“She knows I’m here,” Cas looked at him. Glass was still breaking elsewhere and new fires were springing with each breakage. 

“We’ll reconnect with your old girlfriend later,” Xander snapped, still bracing the refrigerator with his body and finding the bombardment intensifying. Biting down, it was taking all his strength from keeping it inching towards their salt barrier. “Right now put out the fires while I’ve still got some hair left on my body.” The heat was prickling uncomfortably at his skin, a small warning of how much worse it could get.

“Yes,” Cas shook his head and resumed extinguishing the flames. Even when he was no longer an angel, he was still paying for the crime of being one. 

*******

Sam ran into the office to get Faith, mindful of sound of breaking glass. 

Entering the room, he saw Faith sitting up in the cot, her eyes wide with fear until they laid eyes on him. Then they seemed to settle as if the sight of him alone was a salve on her exhausted nerves. Sam wanted to be that for her, wanted to hold her and tell her that it was all going to be okay. What both he and Dean had learned about slayers in the last few months were that they weren’t invincible things that healed fast and killed everything in sight. Beneath all that was something human and mortal craving connection just like everyone else. 

Sort of like hunters

“What’s happening Sammy?” Faith asked, hating her weakened state. She hurt everywhere and knew better than anyone under this roof the shitstorm about to come down on all of them. She’d seen this Alamo play before and did not want to be the last man standing. Again.  
“They’re making their play to get in here,” Sam said shoving all their supplies into a satchel as he spoke. “We’re going to have to make a run for the car.” 

Faith let ought a sigh of frustration. “I hope it’s still running. They may look butt ugly now, but those bitches had enough brain in them to wreck my bike so I couldn’t leave. Might do the same to Dean’s ride.” 

_Oh Dean was not going to like that at all_ , Sam thought. “If worse comes to worse, we’ll find a place to hold up somewhere until morning.”

Once he was done packing up, he approached her bed. “Can you move?” 

“Yeah,” Faith nodded even though she was lying. She wanted to crawl up somewhere and crash, forget the world ever existed. Instead, she put her feet down, taking Sam’s hand as she lifted herself out of the bed. She managed to stand on her own two feet for a second before swaying unsteadily. 

Sam caught her before she collapsed on the bed, sweeping her up in his arms as if he were freaking Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. “It’s okay,” he smiled affectionately at her. “I got you.” 

The smell of him, the heat of his body against hers, his arm around her flesh made Faith dizzy. Suddenly the pain was chased away by the fierce desire for him. She raised her head and pressed her lips to his, kissing him full on mouth. The contact made her flesh tingle, started a small spark of need inside of her. In seconds it was an inferno, unquenchable and demanding more. 

For a few seconds, they were the only two creatures in the universe, connected to each other by this duet of flesh. Her tongue teased and taunted him, made his chest swell with desire. He could hear her breath against his cheek, feel her smooth skin, flushed because of fever, brushing against the stubble on his face. Her fingers were raking through his hair and he held her closer to him, feeling her heart pound against his. It insane how much he wanted to hear her make those sweet, breathless sounds women make when you treated them right. More than anything, he wanted Faith to feel that. 

Except, this whatever they were engaging in right now, wasn’t Faith. 

“Faith,” Sam pulled back, not stupid enough to be mistaken about what this was. While he was being carried away from his own lust and desire for her, Sam was perfectly aware of what tidal wave was sweeping through Faith’s veins right now. This wasn’t her. This was the Nameless. If anyone knew how to tell the difference, it was him. 

“We have to stop.” 

Her eyes flashed. For an instant, Sam something dark and vicious surface in her eyes but before he could speak to it, Faith yanked his head forward by the hair, pulling her face to his again. This time, there was no hiding what she wanted from him. The pleasant hesitancy of their first kiss was gone, replaced by a burning hunger, fierce and hungry. He felt her tongue forced past his teeth, determine to take up the game of thrust and parry they had just engaged in. This wasn’t a kiss, it felt like violation. 

“NO!” He let go her her, letting her legs uncurl beneath him so she was standing on her own two feet. She landed smoothly, with a dancer’s grace, showing no signs of earlier weakness. Her hands were fists beside her, weapons readying for attack. Desperately, Sam tried to reach her. “Faith, this isn’t what you want!” 

The Nameless was trying to break through Faith’s defenses, he could see it in her eyes. The monster was so close, he might have felt its fetid breath against the skin if it could achieve physical form but then it didn’t need to, Faith was its struments. Sam tried one last time to reason with her, because he knew how hard she’d fought for redemption and he didn’t want to lose her as he had lost the others, Jess, Sarah, Madison. 

“Faith, if I for one moment thought that this what you wanted, I’d be right there with you but it isn’t. It's the Nameless, she’s working you. She’s making you feel this way.” 

Faith was panting, poised like an animal about to lunge. The pain was gone, as was the weakness. All that remained was the thirst and he was the one from whom she needed to drink. The others would serve but he was the one who would make her stronger than all the others who worshipped the Nameless. Already she could feel her renewed strength begin to diminish, bringing with it the weakness and pain. 

“What do you know about how I feel?” Faith hissed back, still retaining enough of herself to be able to respond. “I wanted you from the minute I saw you. I never wanted anyone so bad but I also never wanted you the way I wanted other guys. You’re kind and sweet, decent.” Her voice cracked, betraying feelings she would never have otherwise exposed “Even with all the dark inside of you, you’re a good guy and I didn’t want to mess that up.” 

Sam’s thought his heart might break in his chest because it felt so good to hear that she cared about him the way he did her, even if he felt the connection between them before this. But was also in keeping with the Winchester luck, so totally unfair hearing it when there was every chance he was going to lose her. 

“Faith, fight it,” He pleaded. “Fight and we’ll get through this...” 

But before he could say another word, that dark curtain descended over her eyes and Faith was gone. All that was left was the monster. She bolted forward, moving so fast he barely had time to register the movement. The punch she threw landed squarely on his jaw, making his head snap sideways as he staggered from the power of it. His head spun like he was tumbling down the side of a cliff.  
Tasting blood, he tried to fight back but she hit harder than a frigging demon. Before he could react, before she jumped, her legs clamping around his neck and bringing him down a flip scissor movement. His gun flying out of his jeans to hit the ground, away from reach as he landed flat on his back, pain screaming throughout his body as he impacted. 

Beyond the door, San was aware of gunfire and commotion loud enough to eclipse what was happening in here. Where the hell was Dean when you needed him? Sam cursed under his breath. But before he had time to ponder this, a shadow fell over him and he looked up just in time to see Faith straddling him, pinning his arms with her knees. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Her face split in a maniacal smile that made her lips looked rosier. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.” 

She bent down and forced her mouth against his again, her hands moving up his stomach, to rip open his shirt, sending buttons popping in every direction. He saw the cruel relish on her face as she charted his flesh in slow caresses Yet Sam felt no pleasure in this, remembering those blood soaked words on the wall of the bar. 

_Use him for your pleasure, abuse him at your leisure._

The thought was punctuated by the sharp pain of her teeth biting into his lower lips. Blood immediately filled his mouth but that was enough to jolt him out of his disorientation. Twisting hard and telling himself he could not hold back, he threw Faith off his body. 

She rolled across the wood panelled floor, hitting the base of the wall before scrambling to her feet, like some kind of insect. Fast and agile. She ran at him again, slamming into him with a full body tackle that sent them crashing into the coffee table by the sofa. It buckled under their weight, breaking apart as they both landed on shattered glass and wood. Sam felt Faith’s fingers sinking into his hair and she smashed his head against the debris and the floor so hard, he thought he was going to black out. 

“It would have been so much better if you had just given it up,” Faith’s voice was almost a low growl and she stared at him with the menacing eyes of a demon. “But don’t worry, I’ll get what I need from you.” Beneath the hem of her tank top, he saw dark veins creeping past the edges of the bandage he’s applied over her wound. Whatever infection the Nameless had transmitted to Faith was getting stronger, enough for the woman he knew to become lost in this violent, consuming lust. 

Sam tried to sit up, but Faith snapped her hand around his throat and held him. Her nails dug into his throat and choked the remaining air out of his lungs. Then he became ware of her other hand fumbling for his belt. Meeting her eyes, Sam realised Faith wasn’t there anymore. 

“GET OFF ME!” 

He pulled an arm free and threw a punch, carried by fury and survival instinct, realising with anguish and dismay he couldn’t hold back anymore. Even in her injured condition, Faith was stronger than him. The blow succeeded in knocking Faith off him again and Sam struggled to get up, feeling wet pain radiating from the back of his skull. Standing up shakily, he searched for where his gun had gotten to. It was lying against the floor a few away and Sam crossed the distant quickly to sweep it up into his grasp. 

Faith stood up and saw he was armed. With a smile, she tilted her head and looked at him with a knowing sneer of content. “What are you doing to do Sammy? Shoot me?”

“Faith I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam aimed, tasting blood on his lips. “Stand down and let me help you.” 

Smoke was starting to drift into the room and outside the gunfire continued. 

“Kill me?” Faith circled him like a lioness on the savannah. “I dare you.” 

The gun was trained on her but Sam had no idea what to do. He could manage a killshot with ease but this was Faith. It wasn’t like those other out there, who were too far gone to save according to Castile, she was still in there, trapped in her own flesh, he knew it. How could he put her down when she could be saved. He’d killed a woman he loved before and that had nearly broken him. He couldn’t do it again. Staring at her, weapon aimed, they were at an impasse and she knew it. 

“Can’t do it can you?” She smiled and took a step towards him. “I guess you had better lie down and give it up because I’m going to get what I want anyway.” She licked her lip and bared her teeth. 

“No you’re not,” Sam said quietly and pulled the trigger.


End file.
